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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22982035">If Only Someone Looked at Me Like They Look at Guns</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastPresentFiction/pseuds/PastPresentFiction'>PastPresentFiction</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Boondock Saints (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Multi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 10:53:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>27,480</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22982035</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastPresentFiction/pseuds/PastPresentFiction</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tessa owned As the Page Turns, a secondhand bookstore across the street from Mcginty's. With the perfectly prepared coffee and pastries she offered along with hard to find books, she soon gained success. What happens when the vigilantes she'd only heard about in passing since relocating to South Boston return to their business?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Connor MacManus/Original Female Charcter(s), Murphy MacManus/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When I bought the secondhand bookstore in South Boston, my dad thought I'd lost my mind. What was I, a native West Virginian, going to do all alone in Boston? Sell books, I'd thought. And live my life, finally, I added.</p><p>I had spent a healthy portion of my life being the perfect daughter. The one who gave and gave and made sure that I did everything in my power to make my parents proud. I gave everything to everyone, until there was little left for myself. Now, at thirty years old, I could finally have something for myself.</p><p>Besides which, have you ever seen Boston? It's gorgeous and colorful. However, when my dad helped me move into the apartment I'd leased within walking distance to my new, old store "As the Page Turns" he wasn't impressed.</p><p>"Really, Tessa?" He asked, looking around. "You're going to be homesick. This place is too noisy, it's too dirty. You're going to miss good ol' West Virginia."</p><p>Dirty and noisy? Coal mines, I thought, and the plants that made it smell or shot smoke up into the air weren't the same? Instead of arguing, I diverted him with the manual labor of the move. "You going to help me with this bed, Dad? Or should I ask a neighbor?" That got him moving.</p><p>It didn't cure his nagging. Not before he headed home, nor after he'd arrived. It made the weekly phone calls a bit of a hassle. I wanted to talk about how I was making my store a success. He wanted to bring up the things I'd left behind. I wanted to discuss the changes I made as the money started to come in earnest. He wanted to listen for a sign of homesickness. Not a call passed without at least one, "You ready to come home yet?"</p><p>Two years, I thought, walking to work in the early morning sun. I was smiling. I loved my life. I was busy. I made the store a reasonable success, adding a coffee bar and pastries to the space. And I had regulars and new customers almost daily. Success was sweet, I thought, as I unlocked the beveled glass front door and listened to the comforting jingle of the bell.</p><p>The phone rang almost as soon as I dropped my bag behind the counter. Since I wouldn't be opening for another half an hour, I had a pretty good guess of who was calling.</p><p>"Morning, Dad!" I answered, taking the cordless phone with me to start up the coffee and espresso machines. I wondered if his call would be over by the time my daily pastry delivery came. "What's up?"</p><p>"Tessa, you shouldn't answer the business phone like that." He admonished. Great start, Dad, I thought. "Why don't you have your cell phone on?"</p><p>Ugh, I thought, the chastisement with a side of criticism. Lucky me.</p><p>"My Blackberry is in my pocket. I must not have heard the call come in." I answered. "Sorry, Dad." Tessa, I thought, stop fucking apologizing, you're an adult. "How are you? Is something wrong?"</p><p>I heard him sigh. "Yes, in Boston."</p><p>"What?" I asked, wandering the store to make sure I'd put everything in order when I'd closed the evening before. The counters were clean, the leftover pastries went to the soup kitchen nearby, and the shelves were stocked and orderly.</p><p>"Don't you read or watch the news?" Irritation was so heavy on his voice that I could feel the glare across states. Why couldn't my parents have had another child so I could share this guilt and misery? "Those vigilante murderers are back in Boston. I think you should come home."</p><p>I rolled my eyes. "Dad, I do watch the news. It's just been busy. This past week's been insane." I rolled my shoulders, feeling the tension build. "And why would I care about vigilantes? Didn't they kill mob people? I sell used books and coffee." Logic, I thought, would hopefully work. "Why would I be in danger?"</p><p>"Tessa, they killed a priest." He groaned. "Why wouldn't you listen to me before running away to Boston?"</p><p>Running away? I was thirty years old when I relocated, for fuck's sake. "Dad, I'm not Catholic, nor are you." I reminded him gently. "I'm certainly not a priest." I let out a sigh I hadn't noticed I was holding. "I'm fine. I'm happy." The stress moved from my shoulders to my neck belying my words. "I'll be safe. Besides, I highly doubt they've returned. And even if they had, they couldn't be stupid enough to come back to their old stomping grounds."</p><p>Another sigh and groan from his end. "You never used to be this stubborn." Yeah, because I was too busy making sure everyone else was happy. "Didn't you tell me the bar they used to frequent was close to your store?"</p><p>Damn it. Why had he remembered that tidbit in all that I'd told him about my store? Why couldn't he recall how excited I'd been at finding the rare book one of my customers had asked for? And why had I thought sharing the 'local colorful history' of my new home with my overbearing dad? In my defense, I didn't know that someone would kill a priest.</p><p>A tap came to the front door and I nearly cheered at the interruption. "Dad, I have to go, my pastries are here." Rushing through another round of I'll be safe and ending with round of "I love yous".</p><p>I let out another sigh and ran to unlock the door. The jingle of the bell calmed me a bit as Marco, the bakery's delivery guy came in with the first load of boxes. As I rolled my shoulders and tried to crack my own neck to release the tension, Marco left for the second and last load. After checking to make sure everything was accounted for, I offered him his usual tip. A double espresso.</p><p>"Ah, that hits the spot, Tess." He smiled. "You ok?"</p><p>I assured him I was fine and we chatted about this and that.</p><p>"Better hit the road. Don't want the boss to get pissed." He said, tossing the small cup in the trash. "See ya tomorrow." I waved him out.</p><p>"Could you flip my sign?" I asked, and he smiled and did it. "Later, Marc."</p><p>I moved to fill the pastry case. Using the decorative towers and plates that I'd picked up at one of the Farmer's Market stalls. The jingle of the bell made me raise up and offer my usual greeting. "Welcome to As the Page Turns, can I help you?"</p><p>He was taller than me, but then again almost everyone was. His incredibly blue eyes crinkled with a smile as he took me in behind the counter. The pastry boxes were almost all empty and the display was filled. I was wearing a pair of skinny jeans, a loose v-neck brown t-shirt, and a pair of canvas sneakers. My auburn hair piled loosely into a bun on the top of my head and my ever present and much needed glasses perched on my nose, not thick enough to hide my green eyes.</p><p>Since he was clearly inventorying my assets as it were, I decided to do the same for him. Dark hair, looking like he'd used shears to cut it in the dark, crowned his head. His skin was sun kissed but not tan, and he wore a peacoat, black t-shirt, jeans, and boots. I could see a bit of a tattoo peeking from the collar of his coat on the left side of his neck. Another tattoo was on his right hand, along his index finger. A word, "AÈQUITAS". Huh, Latin. Justice? I felt a tingle of curiosity.</p><p>His smile turned to a smirk and I waited, raising an eyebrow under my glasses. I had my usual customer service smile on, but felt a little smirk of my own forming. Both confirming our inspection of the other, and finding it agreeable. He finally spoke.</p><p>"'Eard dis wus de place fer a master coffee on dis street." His Irish brogue is full and strong.</p><p>"Did you now?" I asked, my smile widening. "Whose singing my praises?"</p><p>"Doc." Ah, I thought. The sweet, if a bit different, owner of Mcginty's Bar, the place my dad had brought up in his call.</p><p>"What can I get you?" I asked, grinning at the thought of how many day drinkers Doc sent my way to sober up. This man, however, looked like he had recently woken up. Perhaps,he had a late night, if the slight red in the white of his eyes were telling the tale properly.</p><p>"Two av the largest black coffee yer 'av. Strong." He answered. A late night then, I smiled.</p><p>"Shot of espresso sounds in order." His eyebrows raised. "Don't look alarmed, I'll add it to the regular coffee." I turned to the machine behind me and started the two cups. "How is Doc?" I asked over the noise and my shoulder.</p><p>"'E's gran. Jammers, oi tink." Jammers, I thought, trying to make sense of the words he used. Traffic jams came to mind so I translated that Doc was busy. I had plenty of Irish immigrant customers, and I was slowly learning some of their vernacular. It was rough going, but interesting.</p><p>Capping the two large cups with black lids and sliding them into the brown sleeves that would protect my customers from burning themselves on the heat pouring from the hot coffee inside, I turned. "Well, tell him I'll try to stop over this afternoon with his favorite treat." I handed him the coffee. "Are you new in town?"</p><p>He shot me a strange look, but seeing me waiting behind the till, he gave another grin. "Aye, just visitin' for business." He chuckled at his own joke. "Ye new? Yisser accent is different."</p><p>I had heard that a great deal when I moved here. "Yep, I'm from West Virginia." My smile stayed in place. He's an odd duck, I thought, but Doc never sent me anyone dangerous or violent, so I felt safe. "Hope you enjoy your visit." I told him his total and he handed me a large bill. Opening the register to give him his change he waved me off.</p><p>"Naw, lassy, that's for yer." His smile was sweet, but the tip was twice as much as his coffees cost. I opened my mouth to protest, but he stopped me again. "Naw, oi ill in my brown 'ear it. Doc acts loik de sun shines from yer side av de street an' oi can tell why. Yer take care av 'imself, an' we take care av ours."</p><p>"Doc's a sweetheart. He reminds me of my late grandpa." I answered, smiling at the jist of what he said. "It's no hardship to check in on him." I put the extra cash under the drawer. If this strange man came back, his coffee was paid for. "I'm Tessa, by the way." I held out my hand.</p><p>"Murphy." He answered, simply, taking my hand. His hands were calloused and rough. Like the men I was raised around and the ones working in the factories here.</p><p>"Nice to meet you, Murphy." I said, my smile genuine.</p><p>The bells on the door jingled again. Another strong Irish voice called out before I could give my standard greeting. "So that's wha yer were- keepin' company wi' a juicy lassy instead av bringin' de coffee, yer arse."</p><p>I looked up and the usual greeting caught in my throat. Dear Lord, I thought, the dim light of the store allowing the beams of early morning sun to settle around the newcomer like a halo. Sun bleached brown hair, cut as haphazardly as Murphy's, light blue eyes, and scruff on the planes of his tanned face. Clearing my throat and my mind of how beautiful he was, I finally found my voice.</p><p>"Welcome to As the Page Turns." Jesus, why did I sound squeaky and breathless at the same time? "Guess one of these is yours?" I gestured at the two cups on my counter.</p><p>He turned his full attention to me and my mouth went dry as I watched him take the same inventory of me as Murphy had. Only this time I felt inadequate. I fought the urge to squirm.</p><p>"Damn it, Conner, stop starin' at 'er loike she's bill skinner. She looks loike a colt ready ter bolt." Murphy's voice broke the weird hold. 'Bill skinner'? I wondered. The horse bit I completely understood.</p><p>I cleared my throat again. "So, Connor, is it?" I asked, holding out the same hand that Murphy had shaken. "Visiting for business as well?"</p><p>Connor, the archangel of beauty choked on his own tongue as he took my hand and shot a look at Murphy. They were silent for a beat, my hand locked in the calloused heat of Connor's while they stared at each other. Great, pretty, but another weirdo.</p><p>"Aye, business." He answered, a smile and chuckle as he returned to face me. "An' yer are?"</p><p>I really wished I knew the joke. That had these two laughing every time I mentioned business.</p><p>"'Er name is Tessa. Whaich yer wud 'av known if ye'd gotten oyt av scratcher and cum wi' me, loike oi tried ter git yer ter." Murphy answered, smirking.</p><p>Connor released my hand and I leaned my hip against the counter. "Are you business partners?" I asked, wondering what type of business they could be in. Rough hands, sun kissed skin, peacoats, hair that looked like a blind barber and blunt shears created the cut weren't usually what I'd associate with business travel. They could be sailors, I supposed.</p><p>Connor and Murphy laughed. Each picking up a cup of coffee. Murphy with his right hand, Connor with his left. "Business partners?" Connor smiled, taking an appreciative sip. "Naw, brothers."</p><p>Murphy sipped his own. Closing his eyes and sighing in gratitude. "Twins in fact." He added, opening his eyes.</p><p>Connor took another drink from his cup. He moaned indecently and it made my stomach clench. "Dis coffee is rapid. Yer 'av a gift. An' I'm jealous yer git ter enjoy it al' de time."</p><p>It was my turn to laugh. "Oh, I don't drink coffee." The look of horrified disbelief on both their faces was priceless. "I make it. I love the scent of it, but drink it?" I shuddered. "No thanks."</p><p>Murphy's eyebrows rose. "'Oy can yer make it if yer allerge it?"</p><p>Connor chipped in, shaking his cup. "An' make it taste loike dis?"</p><p>I noticed the ink on his hand as he shook the cup. Another word tattoo. "VERITAS" I reached into my tiny bit of high school Latin. "Truth," I said out loud, startling all of us. I blushed as their eyes fell to mine. I swallowed. "The truth is- my parents love coffee. When my mom died, I learned to make a decent cup so my dad could wake up to it. Worked as a barista for a bit. Still hate the taste."</p><p>Connor's eyes burned into me, making me curious again about the two of them. "Konnor, perestan' pyalit'sya, ty yeye pugayesh'." Murphy broke the silence in a murmur. The language sounded almost guttural. Russian? Strange.</p><p>Connor's eyes never left me as he answered. "Notò la mia mano, Murphy. Pensi che chiamerà la polizia?" The language he'd chosen sounded more lyrical. Wait, 'polizia'? Police?</p><p>I cleared my throat. "Well, this has been- interesting." I smiled, hoping to defuse whatever tension was between the three of us. "Could you please let Doc know I'll be over around lunch?" I asked, needing time to process. Hoping desperately they'd take the hint.</p><p>Murphy spoke again, tugging his twin away from the counter. "Naw problem, lassy. We'll be 'appy ter let 'imself nu. Say take 'er 'andy, Connor."</p><p>"Clap yer lay-ra, lass." Connor said, allowing his brother to steer him out the door, Murphy shooting me a wave.</p><p>Well, then, I thought. Going back to the pastry display, I started clearing the empty boxes. What the hell was all that?</p><p>Russian translation from Murphy: Connor, stop staring. You scare her.</p><p>Italian translation from Connor: She noticed my hand, Murphy. Do you think she'll call the police?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>My day went normally after the weird brothers left.  At noon, the tide slowed and I put the “Be Back In-” sign in the door window and grabbed the pastry box, three cups of coffee I put in a carrier (just in case they were loitering in Doc’s), and my bag.  I locked the front door and headed across the street with my burden.  </p><p>When I got to the door, I was juggling the coffee carrier on top of the pastry box while trying to open the door.  Someone inside must have heard me struggling, because the door swung open.  I looked up into Murphy’s blue eyes.  </p><p>“Thot we ‘eard someone oyt ‘ere strugglin’.”  He held the door open as I moved past him with my burden.  “Dat coffee fer us?”</p><p>Rolling my eyes, I laughed.  “Since I haven’t developed a taste for the rotgut during the day-”  I answered, as he took the carrier from my hands.  “It’s for you, Doc, and-”  </p><p>“Me?”  Connor was leaning against the bar smoking.  He smiled and pulled the pastry box from my hands.  “What’s dis?”</p><p>I smiled, but didn’t answer, looking past him for Doc.  My forehead wrinkled in worry.  “Pastries, Doc loves the scones, so I brought a boxful.”  I moved past him, heading toward the hallway that held the office, stockroom, and bathrooms.  I’d spent almost as much time in the bar as I did in my own store, so I was familiar with the entirety.  “DOC?!  Are you back here?”  </p><p>His voice called from the storeroom and I opened the door.  His grin was bright as he saw me come toward him.  Dropping his clipboard, he held open his arms for our usual hug.  Hugging him felt exactly like hugging my grandpa and I loved this old man with the same protectiveness.  </p><p>“Ah, lass.”  His soft Irish accent whispered over the top of my head.  “Y-y-er a-fuck ass-site for sore eyes.”  </p><p>I pulled back and beamed at him.  “Sorry it’s been over a week, Doc.”  I brushed my loose hair from my face.  “Been terribly busy.”  </p><p>He smiled down at me, still holding my arms in his hands.  </p><p>“So yer like ol’ men, den?”  Came a snickering voice from the doorway.  I looked toward the voice and glared at the two men acting as our audience.  </p><p>“I only have time for Doc,”  my glare turned to a smirk.  “He’s had my heart for two years now.”  Doc patted my cheek affectionately.  </p><p>“Aye, she’s a good-”  He stammered to find the word.  “Fuck off, you two!”  He finished, making the three of us chuckle.  </p><p>“Well said,”  I squeezed his hand.  “Can you take a break?  I brought your favorite.”  </p><p>He nodded and took up his cane.  Together we walked back to the bar, the twins having rushed ahead.  “How are yer really, lass?”  Doc asked, as we made our slower progress back to the main room.  “Yer Da still asking yer to come home?”</p><p>I nodded, but didn’t want to talk about it.  He understood, seeing as he’d been my only source of comfort.  Sure, I’d met some people through the store, but at the end of the day, I craved comfort.  And so, Doc it was.  He’d adopted me and I adopted him.  It worked.  </p><p>“Whar are da two of ye?”  Murphy called, stepping back to the entryway of the hallway.  I glanced up and smiled at him, letting him see me walking at Doc’s pace.  He smiled back and nodded, turning back to the bar.</p><p>Doc and I joined them, in our own time.  We stood for a moment watching the two of them, drinking coffee and hip checking one another.  “Do they ever act their age?”  I whispered to Doc, eyeing them acting like children.  He chuckled and shook his head.  </p><p>“Wha?”  Connor said, looking at Doc and I staring.  “Can we ‘av da sweets now?”  His eyes were sparkling and I felt like I really was looking at a child.  </p><p>“Doc gets first pick, boys.”  I said, taking the box off the bar and offering it to the elderly man.  I watched as Doc’s eyes lit up as brightly as the boys’ had.  “Let’s grab a booth?”  I carried the box to one of the small booths, and tossed orders over my shoulder.  “Boys, grab some small plates from behind the bar?  And bring Doc’s coffee over, would you?”</p><p>We sat and I talked about the week since we’d seen each other last.  I got up to make myself a cup of tea and came back to find the three in a whispered conversation.  </p><p>“Don’t mind me,”  I said, taking a sip of my tea.  “I should be heading back to my shop in a bit anyway.”</p><p>Doc looked up at me with concern and I felt a twist in my belly.  “Don leave jus yet, my girl.  Fuck-Ass.  Dees two ‘av some explainin’ ter do.”  He pointed at the twins seating across from him.  </p><p>I raised an eyebrow and pulled a chair from another table.  Sitting on it at the head of the booth, I waited.  Weary, but curious.  </p><p>“Didn’t want ter tell yer dis way,”  Murphy muttered into his cup, but he sat up when someone apparently kicked him under the table.  </p><p>Connor looked up at me without the twinkle lighting his eyes.  “But yer shud know who we are.” </p><p>I smiled and rolled my eyes.  “You’re Connor,”  I said, pointing at him.  “And you’re Murphy.  You already introduced yourselves to me.”  I knew this wasn’t what they meant, but a feeling of NOT wanting to know the truth.  It was going to be bad.  </p><p>They nodded, but kept talking, each completing the other’s sentence.  </p><p>“Dat’s right,” Murphy answered.  </p><p>“But der’s more ter it.”  Connor finished.  “Our surname is-”</p><p>“MacManus,”  Murphy sighed.  Seeing my face pale, he went on, “see yer ‘eard of it.”  </p><p>“Mean yer no ‘arm.”  Connor rushed to assure you.  “Doc insisted-”</p><p>Murphy came in to assist, “we tell yer.  Said yer shud ‘av a choice.”</p><p>“In who yer associate wit.”  Connor said, pulling his eyes from yours to stare at the coffee in his hand.  </p><p>I took a moment to collect myself, shocked when I realized I was still holding my cup and it wasn’t shaking.  If I were being honest with myself, the hand tattoos were a clue that hadn’t left me all day.  I’d remembered that from the news, even if it had been shoved to the far reaches of my mind.  I wondered why they had come back, why they were in Doc’s, why they chose my coffee instead of his?</p><p>“Darlin’,” Doc called my attention to him.  “Yer OK?”  </p><p>I nodded, and took another sip of my tea.  It felt warm, but offered no comfort.  What do I do with this knowledge?  Tell the police?  I shrunk from that option, though it was sound.  They didn’t hurt innocent people.  They wouldn’t.  </p><p>“The priest?”  I whispered.  If they answered appropriately, if they convinced me, maybe I’d have an answer.  </p><p>“No.”  Connor said, his voice raised above the quiet, soothing tone he’d been using.  “We don’ kill priests.”</p><p>Murphy looked sick at the mere thought.  “Or weemen or laddies.”  No women or children, like I’d thought.  </p><p>I nodded, wondering what my face looked like.  Since the three of them were looking at me like I was going to blow a gasket, I thought it was probably not good.  I cleared my throat after taking another drink of tea.  “OK.”  I said, trying to smile.  “Alright.  That goes along with what I remember from your first go around.”  I sat the cup on the table.  “Why would you come back here?”  </p><p>“Obviously dey wanted ter draw us ‘ere.”  Murphy answered, lighting up a much needed cigarette by the look on his face.  </p><p>Connor agreed, lighting his own.  “Dey killed de good fader ter get us ‘ere.”  He grimaced at what he clearly found distasteful.  </p><p> </p><p>“You misunderstand me,”  I said, sighing and tossing my head back.  The stress and tension was building again.  “Why did you come back here?”  I gestured around the bar.  “I may not be a criminal justice graduate, but this doesn’t seem smart to me.”  </p><p>Finally understanding they glanced at each other, silently communicating.  “‘Tis ‘ome.”  They answered together.  </p><p>I nodded, trying to understand why the comfort of familiarity was worth more than their freedom.  “And why did you pick my shop to buy coffee?  Convenience?”  I asked, thinking that I’d rather it just be an accident or something simple.  </p><p>Again they looked at one another, trying to decide.  “Saw yer lock up yesterday.”  Murphy admitted.  </p><p>“Doc did say yer coffee was good tho.”  Connor said, giving my surrogate grandpa a pass.  </p><p>I took the news in.  I’d locked up very late the night before.  Far past the time I usually left due to a shipment I had to put away.  I hadn’t even felt them watching me.  Dear God, was Dad right?  Was I so naive that I could be harmed because I’d grown comfortable and complacent?  I was staring hard at my cup, wondering what to do with all this information. </p><p>I knew I wouldn’t alert the authorities.  Why?  They were doing a weird kind of service for the world.  One I wouldn’t do, but I wasn’t a judge or jury.   The rest of the information was to be decided, I supposed.  Sighing, I stood up.  </p><p> </p><p>“I have to get back to my store.”  The boys and Doc stood as well.  “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”  </p><p>I walked silently to the door and was happy that none of them followed me.  I needed time to process everything.  I didn’t need to be coddled or followed.  Although, I told myself as I crossed the street and reopened my store, I would definitely be leaving at the normal time tonight.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I kept my promise to myself.  As soon as the clock turned six o’clock, I was closing down.  I’d taken care of the coffee and espresso machines, washing and wiping everything down, and then made sure the trash had been tossed in the alley dumpster.  Checking the store to make sure I didn’t miss any stragglers and that the aisles and bookshelves were clear and neat, I finally locked the front door behind me after turning the sign to CLOSED.  </p><p>A part of me wanted to look around, to see if I could catch anyone watching me, but I didn’t.  Maybe I didn’t want to know.  Maybe I was scared I’d see nothing and not know if that meant they weren’t watching me, or if I just had no ability to sense it.  Better to just not check at all, I decided.  I walked carefully back to my apartment, thinking longingly of a hot bubble bath and something warm to eat with a nice glass of iced tea.  </p><p>Walking into my building, I felt a shiver run down my spine.  I looked around, but again saw nothing.  I shook it off and took the elevator, feeling like the stairs would be too much with my current mood.  When the bell dinged my arrival at my floor, I stepped out and felt the chill again.  Damn it, what the hell.  I glanced around and again saw nothing.  Squinting at the stairway door, I stalked to it.  I jerked it open and there they stood, staring at me like I’d dropped down from the moon.  </p><p>“What the hell?”  I asked, careful not to raise my voice.  Even with two stalkers, two stalkers who were admitted killers, I didn’t want to rouse the neighbors.  </p><p>Murphy had the decency to look embarrassed at having been caught, but Connor’s eyes stared straight into mine.  He was looking at me like he had all the right in the world to be standing on the stairs leading to my apartment.  “Wanted ter make sure yer made it ‘ome.”  He said, stepping out of the stairway into the hallway.  Murphy followed him and I was about to object.  </p><p>“Ain’t yer gonna invite us in?”  Murphy asked, as they hovered over me.  </p><p>I rolled my eyes and stomped to my door.  Pushing the key into the double locks with more force than necessary, I pushed the door open and stood back.  “Come on in.”  I said, sweeping my hand to allow them to go first.  “If you’re my bodyguards, I suspect you want to case the place to make sure no one is inside to hack me to pieces.”  </p><p>“Yer ‘dorable when yer pissed.”  Connor said, walking past me and reaching out as if to pat my head.</p><p>I growled in irritation.  “If you want to keep the hand, don’t pat my head.  I’m not a fucking dog.”  </p><p>Murphy chucked, knocking away Connor’s hand.  “Wonder if ye’d bite.”  He pushed Connor inside and grabbed my hand to tug me in with him.  “Come on, give us de gran’ tour.”  </p><p>I bit my lip and closed the door behind me, locking it because my dad had always insisted.  They turned at the locking and I shrugged.  “My dad always said there wasn’t any use to have locks if you don’t use them.”  I moved to stand in front of them.  “Grand tour?  Ok,” I pointed in front of us.  “Living room.  Over here,” A point to the left, “Kitchen and dining area.  “The three doors down that small hallway are, “ I walked a little further into my living room and pointed at each in turn.  “Guest room, bathroom, master bedroom.  My bedroom has its own bathroom.   Now if you want, you may go inspect them all for mass murderers.  Wait, I found them.”  I pointed at the two of them.  </p><p>Connor rolled his eyes at me.  “We ain’t mass murderers.”  </p><p>“Yeah, we only kill dos dat deserve it.”  Murphy agreed with his brother.  </p><p>I smirked at them.  “Actually the definition of mass murder is the act of murdering a number of people, typically simultaneously or over a relatively short period of time and in close geographic proximity.  You guys fit that description, correct?”  </p><p>That gobsmacked them.  “What kind of woman can rattle off de definishun of mass murder like it’s a recipe for chicken?”  Connor asked, looking like I’d just thrown a baby out a window.  </p><p>“I own a bookstore,”  I answered with a glare.  “Did you boys imagine I didn’t like to read?”  </p><p>Murphy got over his shock reasonably faster than Connor.  “Full av surprises ain’t ya?” </p><p>I shrugged.  “Anyway, if you want to take a look, go ahead.  I’m going to fix dinner.  For three, I guess.”  I held back a sigh.  There goes my relaxing evening to process the day.  </p><p>I kicked off my sneakers and hung up my bag on the coat rack by the door.  Walking to the kitchen, I was hoping I had enough beef to make spaghetti for the three of us.  Finding all the ingredients I needed, I started dinner as I heard them opening and shutting doors in the bedrooms and bathrooms.  Satisfied that I wouldn’t be killed in my secure apartment, I guess, they joined me in the kitchen.  </p><p>“If you want something to drink,”  I said, putting the pasta in water on the stove.  “There’s stuff in the fridge.”  I stirred the sauce I’d already started.  The beef and italian sausage were browning in another pan.  “Oh and whichever one of you goes for a drink, could you hand me the loaf of bread out of the cabinet beside the fridge?”  </p><p>I heard the fridge open and a bit of a groan.  “Minerals and cold tea?  Do ya not ‘av any real drinks?”  Murphy asked.  Minerals?  Must be soda.  </p><p>“If you were hoping for alcohol, you should have stayed at Doc’s.”  I said, turning around and marching to the cupboard to get my bread down.  “That’s what I have, so drink it or have water.”  </p><p>I moved back to the counter by the stove to slice the bread and butter it with fresh made garlic butter.  The oven was already on and ready to go once the pasta and sauce was finished.  I layered the bread on a sheet and set it aside.  While I was working I heard them take glasses out of the strainer by the sink and pour something.  </p><p>“Ugh, tis sweet!”  Connor spat, clearly having picked my tea.  I chuckled.  Murphy was silent, so I had to turn to see what his face must look like.  </p><p>“It’s sweet iced tea, Connor, I’m southern for fuck’s sake.  What did you expect?”  I laughed at his grimace and saw Murphy’s glass was still completely full.  “Scared, Murphy?”  </p><p>He glared at me and took a small sip.  His face contorted, but he swallowed.  “‘Tis not dat brutal, Connor.”  I giggled at the two of them.  Dear God, they both look like they’d been poisoned.</p><p>“Give me the glasses.”  I rolled my eyes, and poured the offending liquid into a large lidded cup for me to sip on while I worked.  I rinsed the glasses out and opened the fridge to dig for a minute.  Dad hadn’t been to visit much, but I’d gotten him some beer when he had, moving food around I found two bottles.  Guiness, because I wanted him to broaden his horizons.  There were two more left after I filled their glasses, Dad hadn’t been a fan.  “Here, better?”  I asked, holding up the bottles to show that there wouldn’t be any more surprises.</p><p> “Aye, ‘tis better.”  Connor said, taking a long draw from his glass, clearly trying to get rid of the taste of my tea.  </p><p> </p><p>Murphy didn’t speak, just mirrored his brother.  </p><p> </p><p>I strained the browned meat and added it to my simmering sauce.  Then I strained the pasta and put it back into the pot.  Baked spaghetti and nearly homemade garlic bread sounded like heaven.  Opening back up the fridge, I grabbed fresh mozzarella and parmesan and began layering my pasta, sauce, and cheese into a casserole dish. I could feel them watching, but I was too in my happy place to care.  Once everything was ready, in the oven it went.  I turned back to them after I put the dirty pots and pans in the sink.  </p><p>“What?”  I asked, seeing that they were eyeing me.  “I’m sure you’ve seen a woman cook dinner before.”  </p><p>“What are ya makin’?”  Murphy asked, glancing at the pots and pans, as I moved to put away the leftover ingredients.  </p><p>I tossed my answer over my shoulder.  “Baked spaghetti and garlic bread.”  I stood up and took my adult sippy cup to the table.  “Let me grab the plates and silverware and I’ll have a seat until it’s done.” <br/>Connor stood up and Murphy followed suit.  “Naw, yer cooked, let us set de table.”  </p><p>Sitting down, I smiled and pointed at the cabinet and drawer they’d need.  Soon three plates and all the silverware necessary for dinner were on the table.  “So, are you going to tell me why you followed me home?”  I asked, when they sat back down with their glasses.  “Or do I have to assume the worst of you two?”  </p><p>They grinned at me.  “Tink yer already tink de worst.”  Murphy said, taking a drink, but not taking his eyes off me.  </p><p>“An’ nathin’ we say wud change dat.”  Connor agreed, taking his own sip and staring as well.  </p><p>I rolled my eyes as the timer dinged.  “You’re not getting away without answering.”  I stood and grabbed two oven mitts.  I pulled out the bread and pasta dish.  “Can one of you grab that heavy towel hooked on the sink?”  Murphy did, and I gestured for him to lay it in the middle of the table.  I placed the casserole dish down on it.  “Don’t want to ruin my tabletop, do I?”  I tossed the bread into a lined basket and carried it over to put down as well.  “Connor, the drawer under the one you got the silverware out of has the serving spoons, can you grab one?”  He did and soon we were dishing out dinner.  </p><p>We ate in almost silence.  I say almost because every now and then, I could swear they were talking animatedly in their heads.  I’d heard of twins being able to do it, but sitting in front of them and witnessing it was plain weird.  “You know you’re being rude, right?”  I asked, putting down my fork and taking a sip of my tea.  They both looked at me startled.  “You’re having a really long conversation that I can’t hear, much less be a part of, that’s rude.”  I picked up my fork and went back to my food.  </p><p>“Didn’t mean ter be rude,”  Connor said, looking at me with renewed interest.  </p><p>Murphy nodded.  “Don’t even realize we’re doin’ it ‘alf de time.”  </p><p>I grinned, thinking it was rude, but made sense.  “Well, you are, and it’s just as rude as speaking Russian or Italian in front of me.”  Now they looked uncomfortable.  “Don’t worry, I didn’t understand a word.  I just think it’s rude.”</p><p>They both sighed, and I was taken in by the fact that they were mirrors.  Connor was left handed.  Murphy right.  Their hand tattoos were on their dominant hand and that’s the hand they held their forks in.  Their other tattoos, which now that their pea coats were off, having been hung on the coat rack with my bag, weren’t mirrors, but they were identical.  Celtic crosses on their arms, Mother Mary on their necks, only Murphy had one that Connor didn’t.  A star on his hand above the ‘e’ in Aequitas.  They ate and drank like mirrors, but looked so different otherwise.</p><p>I waited while I studied them, knowing they were having another internal conversation.  Rude, but understandable.  Their eyes, I realized, both so blue they felt like I could touch the ocean if I held their gaze.  That was almost the same.  Oh and the fact that they both clearly had a blind barber.</p><p>“Yer right.”  Connor said, repinning me with his eyes.  </p><p>“We shouldn’t blather in front of ya in a languages yer don’t understan’.”  Murphy agreed, also staring me down.  </p><p>I nodded, “I understand the need for it this morning.  I do,”  I tried assuring them.  “But now, I know who you are, could we keep it to a minimum?”  I sighed, wondering why I was inviting this mess into my clearly sane life.  “If it’s about your plans, fine, I don’t want to know.  If it’s about ME, could you please just say it?  OUT LOUD.”  </p><p>I received two sets of nods.  “Good.”  I said, moving to put my plate in the sink.  “I need to take a bath,”  I closed my eyes, hoping I wasn’t going to regret what I was about to offer.  “If you want, the guest bedroom and couch are available.  For tonight at least.”  I looked out the window and could see that darkness had fallen while we ate.  “I’d hate for you two to get picked up after following me home.”  </p><p>“That’d be awesum.”  Murphy said, a smile growing.  </p><p>Connor smiled, too.  “”Preciate it.”  </p><p>I nodded again.  Feeling a bit like a bobble head doll tonight, I thought.  “OK, I’ll be out in awhile.”  I moved to my bedroom, feeling their eyes watch me the whole way.  </p><p>I was happy to see that while they’d apparently opened the doors and looked around my bedroom and bathroom, they weren’t complete lurkers and didn’t paw through my drawers.  I grabbed fresh clothes and sighed with the understanding that I’d only be braless for the bath.  Half the joy of womanhood, I thought, crossing to my bathroom and starting the water, was coming home after a long day and whipping my bra off.  Ugh, boys.</p><p>With that thought, I tossed off my clothes and settled into my warm bubble bath.  The water was high enough to cover me to my armpits and for awhile I just sat soaking.  Long day didn’t really cover it.  Between my dad’s call of warning about the very men sitting in my apartment, and the very men in my apartment themselves, it had been a long month it seemed.  I chuckled thinking of my dad finding out they were here, then sobered immediately.  He’d call the authorities.  He’d have them arrested in front of me.  My heart clutched at the mere thought of it.  Why?  I wondered, why did I care?</p><p>I considered the fear I felt for them.  The reason I was letting them stay with me, instead of insisting they go back to Doc’s.  I didn’t want them to be hurt.  I didn’t think they should be taken in by the police.  I knew murder was wrong.  Hell, even though I wasn’t much for church, even I knew the Ten Commandments.  “Thou shall not kill.”  It’s a big one.  Of course, so was adultery, and for the life of me I couldn’t quite reconcile don’t fuck the married ones, with don’t smother people.  Shaking my head, I tried to relax.  </p><p>How could I?  I thought, thinking of the two of them out in my kitchen or living room, sitting around like they belonged here, and I’m up to my armpits in warm, bubbly water.  Naked.  My head fell back against the tiled wall.  Ugh.  The two of them, those accents, those damn eyes.  This had been a really bad idea.  Having them here, nearby, close enough to touch.  I tried to form a mantra to keep my sanity.  “They’ve killed people.  They’re killers.”  And damn it if a sneaky part of my subconscious didn’t chime in with “only the ones that deserved it.” </p><p>Practically growling at my own damn traitorous mind, I started scrubbing myself with a vengenous.  Scouring away the want wasn’t easy, but I worked hard to try to.  My skin was a bright pink by the time I decided I was finished.  Washing my hair just as hard, my scalp was tingling from the scrape of my nails.  Unplugging the tub, I stood letting the water roll off my body and down the drain.  Grabbing a towel to wrap my hair in, I took another to wrap around my body.  The best part about being tiny was not having to buy enormous bath sheets to cover myself.  </p><p>The mirror over my double sinks was steamed up, so I turned on the overhead fan.  Stretching and cracking my neck, I felt the stress being relieved from the warmth of the bath and from just relaxing period.  I dried off and pulled on my pajama bottoms over my panties.  I glared at the sports bra, constrictive, but required with present company.  Sighing I pulled it over my head and adjusted myself until my breasts were perfect.  Then, I tugged on a loose t-shirt.  Comfort, thy name is Tessa.</p><p>I exited the bathroom and grabbed the book I’d left on my bedside table.  I could hear them talking, but I thought I heard more voices.  When I walked out to the living room I had to smile.  They were watching television, an action movie of some sort and were doing their own commentary.  </p><p>Checking the television, I realized it wasn’t some action movie.  “Con Air?”  I giggled, throwing myself onto the sofa between the bickering boys.  “What fault could the two of you possibly have with Nick Cage’s masterpiece?”  </p><p>This truly got them going.  “Neck Cage is it?”  Connor asked, eyes shooting daggers at the screen.</p><p>“He’s a sissy.”  Murphy agreed.  Shooting his own glare at the movie.</p><p>Connor gritted.  “Luk at ‘is ‘air!” </p><p>“an' 'alf de shoite yer man does ain’t believable,” Murphy added, pointing at something happening on the screen.</p><p>Looking between them, I had to laugh.  Then Connor’s eyes gave the first hint of approval.   “Though yer man does know de importance av rope.”</p><p>That broke me.  I started laughing so hard that tears formed.  They were watching me now, curious and possibly a little worried.  “My man?”  I snorted.  “Dear lord, the two of you watching this damn movie like you’re filing it away for later.  Please don’t tell me this is where your ideas come from.”  They were quiet, far too quiet, and not in the internal dialog way.  Shit, is this really where their inspiration came from, MOVIES?  </p><p>They both looked down at me almost sheepishly.  My laughter died away.  “Seriously?”  I asked, looking between the two of them.  “Action movies?”  They were still focused on me processing their muse.  “Which stars are you trying to emulate?”  What the hell?  If they were crazy, I was in too deep.</p><p>“Duke Wayne is a gran’ wan.”  Murphy whispered, seeing a bit embarrassed.  </p><p>Connor nodded.  “Charlie Bronson as well.”  </p><p>“How have you two managed to survive?”  I asked, confused by their complete idiocy.  “You've been taking on TRAINED killers using moves you learned in MOVIES?”  I sat stymied by the mere thought of how much luck went into them not being gunned down by now.  “How many times?”  I asked, and realized I may need them to  explain what I was asking.  “Have you been shot, how many times?”  </p><p>This time I knew they were discussing within themselves what to tell me.  “The truth, please.”  I begged.  If I was going to let them in my life, I had to know.  </p><p>They nodded to one another.  I nearly crawled out of my skin when they stood up and started disrobing.  “Wait!”  I raised my voice just enough to get their attention.  “What the fuck are you doing?”  </p><p>They each raised a shoulder, and kept pulling up their shirts.  “Yer wan ter know.”  Connor said, pulling his head free from his t-shirt.</p><p>“Tart it bes to jus show ya.”  Murphy said, once his was free from his own.  When their hands came to their belts, I jumped up.  </p><p>“Jesus!”  I said, stopping their hands with a hard gesture.  </p><p> </p><p>“Lord’s name.”  They both admonished.  I rolled my eyes, sure ok, taking the Lord’s name in vain is bad, but stripping in front of someone you barely knew isn’t.  Just to show their battle scars.  For fuck’s sake.  </p><p>“Sure, ok.”  I said, happy they had stayed their hands.  Was it really this warm in my apartment or was I just that freaking turned on.  Looking between the two of them I couldn’t make my mind work.  Shit.  What was the damn question again?</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Tess,” Murphy’s voice called, drawing me back to the living room and the two half-naked Irish men I was standing between.  </p><p>“Yer alright, Tess?”  Connor asked.</p><p>I blushed, hot and red to the roots of my wet hair.  Jesus, these two.  “I’m fine.”  I gestured to their naked chests and cleared my dry throat.  “I don’t need show and tell.  Just tell.”  They shared another of their looks and I snapped.  “OUT LOUD!”  </p><p>Both were chuckling now.  Connor looked down at me.  “‘Tis jist dat, we’re not sure where all da scars are.”  </p><p>Murphy nodded, pulling my attention back to him with his corroboration.  “Yeah, ‘ad dem fer so long, not sure without checkin’.”  </p><p>“Checking for ticks.”  I muttered to myself with a smirk.  They both looked down at me curiously.  “Sorry, something I heard a lot of back home from boys like the two of you.”  I giggled at the sight of them looking at me like fish waiting to be hooked.  “Nevermind.  If you two are confused about the placement and number of your scars, take it to the guest room.  I’ll wait here.”  I pointed them down the hallway.</p><p>“Wha if we miss somethin’?”  Connor asked, mischievously. </p><p>Murphy agreed, eyes twinkling.  “Seen each other so much, al’ looks da same.”  </p><p>“Saints?”  I raised my eyebrows in disbelief these two had ever conned anyone into that belief.  “More like demons.”  I groaned.  I had asked, after all.  If I backed down, they’d know I was uncomfortable, and they’d be merciless in the teasing.  I could just fucking tell.  “Fine.  STOP!”  They had reached for their belts again when I agreed.  “Topside first.  Have to be fucking thorough.”  </p><p>I ignored their grins.  Fine, I thought, I could play this game.  Damn demons.  I turned to Murphy first.  Looking into his eyes and forcing myself to smile.  Teasing is it?  Well enjoy this.  I ran my hand down his right arm to take his hand in mine.  I slid my fingers over his tattoos, stopping at the scars of red around his wrist.  “One.”  I counted, running my fingers up his arm like I was taking careful stock. The Celtic cross was intricate on his forearm.  I kept my gaze on his skin, carefully turning his arm over for an inspection of the underside.  Up to the right side of his neck, keeping my smirk to myself when his breath caught at the feeling of my fingertips on the sensitive skin.  I turned his neck to the right to check the left side.  Mother Mary’s silhouette stared down at me and for a moment I felt guilt.  Shrugging, I continued on.  My breath caught when I found a burned mark that was clearly masking another bullet wound.  “Two.”  I breathed.  Tracing the rough skin for a moment before moving on, down the left arm, to the wrist where I saw the same reddening as the right wrist.  “Three.”  My inspection continued, rolling his arm so I could check the underside.  Convinced the arms and neck were finished, I moved to his chest.  Over his left chest was the name “Norman” in cursive, it made me curious, but I didn’t linger.  Fingertips moving down as both upper chest sides were checked, I felt his abdominal muscles tighten as I skimmed down to where his jeans hung low on his hips.  “Turn around?”  I asked, feeling slightly breathless myself.  He did as I asked, and I was confronted by the bottom half of Christ on the cross.  I bet myself I knew where the top portion would be found.  My hands roamed his defined back checking as carefully as I had the front.  “So three, Murphy.”  I answered, stepping back.  I bit my lip when he turned and I noticed his eyes were darker, so very dark.  “At least on the top half.”  </p><p>“Is it my tern?”  Connor asked, his voice husky.  Clearly watching me paw his brother affected him.  </p><p>I turned to him and nodded.  “Have to make sure the tally is correct.”  I stepped to him and began the same careful exploration.  Starting on his left side, taking his dominant hand in mine and working up the same journey, only mirrored.  I kept the exact same pressure on him that I had on Murphy, they were twins after all.  Lightly checking over each arm, taking the same time to touch the sides of his neck.  Having the same flash of guilt run through me when I encountered Mary on his left side of his neck.  Feeling him gulp under the careful touch of his Adam’s apple, tilting his head to the left so I could check the right side.  Down his right arm, to the hand, with a careful flip to make sure nothing was missed underneath.  I pouted.  “Connor, I’m not sure you have ANY scars on you.”  I moved carefully to his back and smiled, having won my bet.  There He was Christ's top half of the crucifiction.   A thorough examination of Connor’s back confirmed my first theory.  “You have no scars, Connor.”  I came back around to stand between them.  “That was a dirty trick.”  I glared at them.  </p><p>“Ye done already?”  Connor teased.</p><p>Murphy piped in, having clearly regained their composure.  “Tink we still ‘av bit o’ skin left unchecked.”  </p><p>Damn them both, how had they just moved along.  I was certain I’d affected them both at least a little.  Fine then.  Let’s keep fucking going.  I gestured to their pants.  “Then let’s get on with it.”  I rolled my eyes, trying to look bored.</p><p>Dueling grins met me as their hands went to their belts.  In unison they unbuckled them, flicking the buttons free, and the zippers sounded horribly loud as they lowered them.  I shut my eyes for a blink and opened them as they shucked their pants on my floor.  Thank God they were wearing boxers, I thought, feeling like I’d probably combust if they hadn’t been.  </p><p>I cleared my throat and started with Connor this time.  I realized I’d have to kneel in front of them to make it the same as with the top half and nearly died of shame.  Too late to back out now, fuck.  I kneeled in front of Connor and thought it best to NOT look up.  I started at his left ankle.  I hated feet and couldn’t care if one of their toes were missing, they had to remember something like that.  Tracing my fingers up his ankle, up his calf, over his knee, I felt him twitch as I went slowly.  Good, I thought, teach you not to fuck with me.  Up his thigh, ignoring his boxers, and crouching to look at the back.  My hands made the same trip down the back of his thigh, the back of his knee, and down his calf to his ankle.  “I’m going to be truly pissed off if there isn’t a mark on you, Connor MacManus.”  I growled, coming back around to his front.  I heard him give a throaty chuckle, but ignored him.  My hands wrapping around his right ankle and beginning the same trek.  At the top of his right thigh I was FINALLY rewarded.  A puckered rough scar like his brother’s clearly used fire of some soft to burn the wound.  “One.”  I said, gritting my teeth.  I moved to the backside, and went back down to his ankle.  Standing up to face him and I could feel the heat rolling off my face.  “ONE.  You couldn’t remember ONE fucking scar?!”  </p><p>“‘Tis been eight years, easy ter forget.”  He was grinning and I fought the urge to smack him.  </p><p>Turning to Murphy, who was fast becoming my favorite twin, I lowered myself to my knees in front of him.  I heard a little woosh of breath leave him and I could almost believe that they were having another one of their internal dialogues.  I was terrified to even contemplate the conversation this time, so I left it.  Starting with Murphy’s right ankle I moved along the same tortuous path.  Nothing was found along the path I traveled and I was starting to rethink his place as my favorite twin.  Around the back of his right leg, nothing again.  I felt like pinching him.  Instead I sighed and moved to the front of his left leg.  “Murphy, I swear there had better be some kind of fucking mark on your legs or I’m going to give you one.”  Up his ankle, over the knee, until I found SOMETHING on his thigh.  “What kind of knot is this?”  I asked, not looking up, but happy I found something.  </p><p>Murphy’s voice sounded a bit strained as my fingers ran over the knot.  “Shield,”  he cleared his throat, “‘tis a shield knot.”  </p><p>“Ah,”  I answered, moving along the rest of his thigh, and going around the back.  Return trip down to his ankle found nothing else.  “So,” I said, rising as gracefully to my feet as I could.  “That’s three for Murphy, and one for Connor.”  They both wiggled their feet inside their socks.  “Ugh, I could care less about your feet.  I figure that if you’ve lost toes, you’d both remember that.”  Gross.  Feet.  Blech.  </p><p>I looked at the two of them and they were grinning like fools.  “What?”  I asked, staring at them in turn.  I shrugged and fell back on the sofa, picking up my book.  Acting like I wasn’t the least bit affected by two almost completely naked Irishmen standing in front of me.  </p><p>“Yer lucky brudder,” Connor’s voice broke the silence.  </p><p>“‘Ow’s dat?”  Murphy asked, I could feel them staring at me.  </p><p>Connor chuckled, kicking his jeans off his feet as Murphy did the same.  “Thot she was gonna bite me, jus ter give me a scar.”  </p><p>They came and dropped down on either side of me, while I steadfastly ignored them.  Dumbasses.  “Tank Bejasus I ‘av dat tattoo on me thigh.”  Murphy said, from my right.  </p><p>I shook my head, and reread the sentence I’d just attempted.  By the third go, I was nearly ready to toss the book across the room.  Damn it.  They were just too fucking close.  I could feel the heat from their bodies, and they had the nerve to sit here in their boxers like it was no big deal.  Ugh.</p><p>“Wat are ye readin’ dere?”  Connor asked, and I nearly screamed.  </p><p>Instead, I cleared my throat and answered with the book title.  </p><p>“Wha’s it ‘bout?”  Murphy asked, clearly these two would be the death of me.  </p><p>“If I told you it was about hiding the bodies of two Irish boys after they were maimed by a tiny brunette, would you leave me to it?”  I asked, snarkily not taking my eyes off the same page.  “Probably not, I think.”  I looked up at the two of them smirking from either side of me.  “It’s about Ted Bundy.  And that’s the truth.”  They looked appalled.  Good.</p><p>“Wasn’t he a serial killer?”  Connor asked, looking at me like he was a little shocked.  </p><p>“Yep.”  I answered, popping that p.  “Handsome devil, too.  Got away with it for so long because no one could believe someone so pretty could kill all those women.”  I looked between them like I was coming to a conclusion.  “Huh, you’re both pretty.”  </p><p>They looked sick at the inferrance.  “Told ya, we ain’t like dem.”  Connor snapped.  His eyes were slanted in a glare.  Ut oh.</p><p>“Mass murderers, right?”  I asked, testing to see how mad they’d get with me.  “At least based on the definition.”  </p><p> </p><p>Murphy sighed, and then I heard him chuckle.  “She’s tryin’ yer patience, brudder.”  I didn’t turn from Connor, waiting to see if Murphy could make him see the truth.  His glare held and I nearly felt fear, nearly.  “Fuck’s sake, Connor, wus a joke.”  </p><p>I watched as Connor’s face cleared, the glare lowered, and his smirk returned.  “Called us pretty though.”  I rolled my eyes.  </p><p>“Dat she did.”  Murphy answered, and I wondered if they could carry on multiple conversations at once.  No fair tag teaming their teasing.  Fuckers.  </p><p>“I think I’m going to bed.”  I stood, and realized at this vantage point they’d be staring at my ass.  Oh well.  “Have fun with the television, boys, but can you keep it down a bit.  I have to open my store in the morning.”  They nodded and watched me go.  Please, for my sanity, I prayed, don’t let them follow me.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Sometime during the night I finally drifted off.  They hadn’t made noise.  In fact, it was oddly quiet in the apartment.  My nerves, however, were stretched thin.  Why were they so quiet, I wondered.  Why didn’t I hear the television and one of the many action movies they clearly loved being dissected?  Finally, my exhaustion must have taken over, because I was out until my alarm went off.</p><p>Groaning, I smacked it with my hand.  Wishing I could throw the damn thing out the window.  With it turned off, I looked around my room.  I felt like crap.  Not unlike the few times I’d drank way too much of way too many different types of drinks.  Ugh, I felt like I hadn’t slept at all.  </p><p>Rolling carefully out of bed, I stood, feeling like I’d rather throw myself out the window with my alarm clock than open the store.  Making myself successful, and the promise of quiet of the store strove me to get dressed.  Fixing my hair in a long braid over my right shoulder, I checked out my reflection in the standing full length mirror by my closet.  Skinny jeans, another v-neck t-shirt, this time dark blue, and a pair of ballet flats completed my look.  Oh and my glasses, of course.  I cracked my neck and smiled at myself.  Come on, you can face the two of them.  </p><p>I walked out and realized they were gone.  How they’d managed to relock my door was a mystery, but neither Connor nor Murphy was inside the apartment.  I checked the guest room, clearly it had been slept in and the sheets and blanket weren’t perfectly made as it had been before.  The guest bathroom was still steamy from at least one shower, but they’d found the hamper, so the towels weren’t tossed all over the floor.  Neat, I thought.  They were strangely neat.  Huh.  I wondered how they had managed the door, then remembered the fire escape outside the guest room’s window.  Sure enough the window was closed, but not locked.  Spider monkeys.  </p><p>I grabbed a couple slices of toast with light butter and a little apple butter, and grabbed a jacket and my bag from the coat rack.  I was out the door in minutes, and walking briskly to my store.  Unlocking the door, and hearing the familiar bell tingle as I walked in the darkness made me sigh.  Familiarity, routine, that was what I craved.  Turning on the coffee and espresso makers, I started getting the store ready for the day.  </p><p>I was gearing up for Marco’s arrival and had nearly convinced myself that the whole experience with Connor and Murphy was some long delusion.  I’d imagined the entire encounter.  They hadn’t come in yesterday for coffee.  I hadn’t learned about their identities at Doc’s.  They definitely hadn’t spent the night at my house after I, God was a blushing again, inspected their bodies with my hands for scars.  If it weren’t for the tingle in my fingertip remembering the gulp I felt on Connor’s neck or the contraction of Murphy’s abdominal muscles, I would have convinced myself.  Damn it.</p><p>Marco came and left, I barely even remembered giving him his double espresso.  I’m sure I did, though, right?  Fuck.  I filled the display case with the fresh pastries, and reboxed the day old.  I’d drop them at the soup kitchen during lunch.  As soon as I heard the first light ring of the bell on the door, I knew it would be them.  </p><p>“Welcome to As the Page Turns, can I help you?”  I asked, sounding bored to my own ears.  Turning I saw the two of them swagger in.  “Coffee?”  I asked, grabbing two cups.  “Want the same as yesterday?”  I didn’t wait for them to answer, just listlessly started making the two cups.  </p><p>“Tess?  Yer feeliln’ aright?”  Connor’s voice asked, and I nodded.  Tired as shit, I thought, but fine.</p><p>Murphy chimed in.  “Yer sure?  Cause ye soun’ a bit off.”  Worried, they both sounded worried.  </p><p>I turned to face them with two coffees, lids in place, paper wraps around them.  “I’m fine.”  I yawned.  “Tired a bit.”  </p><p>They’re brows were furrowed.  Still concerned.  “Did we keep yer up?”  Murphy asked, taking his cup and taking a drink.  He started to reach into his pocket for cash, but I waved him off.</p><p>“You paid too much yesterday.”  I said, another yawn racking through me.  “You didn’t keep me up, I just had trouble sleeping.”  </p><p>“You’re too knackered to storekeep today.”  Connor said, staring at me with so much concern it would warm my heart, if I could focus on it.  </p><p>“Have to stay,”  I answered, glaring at the implications.  “My store, I’m the only employee.  Finally made the damn thing a success.  I’m not going to ruin it by taking a nap.”  </p><p>Connor and Murphy exchanged one of their looks.  “OUT LOUD!”  I yawned with a bite.  They glanced at me and shook their heads.  </p><p>“We tink we know ‘ow yer can stay open.”  Murphy said, over another of your yawns.  </p><p>Connor nodded, not able to resist a sip of coffee.  “‘Av a friend named Romeo.  He could look after ye store and ya could rest.”  </p><p>I looked at them with suspicion.  “Romeo?”  I giggled.  “He gonna bring Juliet along?”  </p><p>“Gone mad from lack o’ sleep.”  Connor said, grinning at you.  </p><p>Murphy nodded.  “Call ‘im, brudder.”  I watched as Connor picked up the store phone and dialed.  I listened as they talked, but didn’t get the gist of it.  Maybe they were right, maybe I was too tired to work.  </p><p>“‘Tis set.”  Connor told Murphy, and shot a look at me.  </p><p>Murphy nodded.  “Gud, let one of us take yer home.”  </p><p>I shook my head.  “Does Romeo know how to work my coffee and espresso machine?  How about the register?”  I asked, looking at each of them.  They looked at me stymied.  “I have to stay long enough to teach him.”  I yawned again.</p><p>“Fuck, teach me.”  Murphy said, looking as worried about me as Connor did.  “Den I can wait while Connor take ya ‘ome.”  </p><p>I sighed, and ran through the instructions with Murphy.  He asked good questions, and I answered them as well as I could.  I kind of wished I could hire him.  Seemed detail oriented.  Probably put me to shame.  I giggled again, thinking of Murphy wearing my glasses.  Jesus, maybe they were right, maybe I was delirious.  </p><p>Murphy nodded us out the door.  Connor was carrying my bag and had a hand on my back.  “Shud jus carry ya back.”  He muttered, seeing as my earlier energy was gone.  I was shuffling along.  Growing more weary as we walked.  Did my apartment move while I was gone?  I swear it wasn’t this far before.  Finally taking initiative, he scooped me up into his arms.  I gave a gasp, too tired to make noise.  “Sorry,” he whispered against my head.  “Be faster dis way.”  </p><p>I nodded against the shoulder of his pea coat.  The smell of cigarette smoke and another cleaner scent invade my nostrils.  I sighed, and the next thing I remember is being laid on my bed.  I wanted to thank him, but sleep pulled me under as he pulled the blankets up over me.  I thought I felt a kiss on my hair, but I was probably dreaming.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I woke up with the sun streaming through the two windows flanking my bed.  Feeling far better than I had that morning, at least I hoped it was that morning, I started to stretch.  The realization I was only clothed in my bra and panties came rushing to the forefront along with the knowledge that I had kicked away the sheets and quilt.  Hearing a gruff chuckle, I turned and struggled to see which one was laughing.  Squinting, I felt my glasses being placed on my nose.  Murphy stood next to my bed, a grin on his face.</p><p>“Yer lookin’ a bit worried,” he whispered, sitting down on the bed as I groped for my sheet to cover myself.  “Do nah worry, ya did it yerself.”</p><p>I choked on my words as Connor joined us.  Well, fuck.  “Ah, yer awake.”  He smiled at me and sat on the opposite side of the bed from Murphy.  “Yer a bit of a chatter in yer sleep, ain’t ya?”  </p><p>I felt my blush burn.  Jesus.  I cleared my throat and fought to find words.  “Can you two give me a minute, so I can get dressed?”  I asked, my voice quiet.</p><p>An echo of chuckling greeted me.  “Bit like closin’ da gate after da horse gets loose.”  Connor answered, not getting up.</p><p>“Yeah,” Murphy agreed.  “Came in when ya firs started jabberin’.  Ya were tossin’ yer clothes off like de offended ya.” </p><p>God, just let this bed swallow me already.  “You say I was talking in my sleep?  Do I wanna know what I said?”  Looking between them, I noticed they looked almost as embarrassed as I did.  “Guys?”  I don’t know why I was pushing, obviously anything that made these two uncomfortable would horrify me.  Curiosity though. </p><p>“Nearly didn’t ‘ear ya at firs.”  Murphy answered, his voice as quiet as I had been.</p><p>Connor nodded, leaning in.  “Yeah, da firs was more like a moan.”</p><p>“What was a moaning?”  Jesus, Tess, stop asking.</p><p>“My name,”  Connor answered, of course, I nodded.</p><p>“Den ya started tossin’ yer clothes off.”  Murphy added to the tale.  Clearly they agreed to tell me it fully now.  “An’ my name came outta ya.”  </p><p>Shit.  Fuck.  “Oh.”  I replied, hoping that was the end of it.</p><p>“My name again.”  Connor went on, “I tried ter cover ya, but ya were fightin’ like a hellcat against da blankets.”</p><p>Murphy leaned forward, “Last ting ya said was my name.”  </p><p>Well, great.  Now I can never look them in the fucking eye again.  “Wow.”  I said, picking at the quilt I’d tossed away.</p><p>“Hey.”  Murphy said, trying to draw my attention back to their faces.  I fought against it, my burning face stayed focused on the blanket in my fingers.  </p><p>“Don’ be embarrassed.”  Connor whispered, daring to touch my hand with his left.  </p><p>I finally looked up at their faces.  “Ya tink yer da only one tinkin’ dos tots?”  Murphy asked, reaching out with his right hand to brush my braid back over my shoulder.</p><p>“Sweet heaven, woman,”  Connor breathed.  “Been tryin’ our damndest to keep our ‘ands to ourselves since ya invited us in las night.”</p><p>“Den lettin’ ya check for scars.”  Murphy’s voice sounded gruff.  “Tot I was gonna burst wit ya runnin’ yer ‘ands all over us.”</p><p>I licked my lips and gave them both a shy smile.  “Oh.”  I said, simple and not nearly articulate.  Maybe a change of subject would work.  “How long have I been asleep?”  </p><p>“Couple ‘ours.”  Connor said, sitting back.  </p><p>I nodded.  “I should get dressed and go relieve Romeo.”  They shook their heads.  “He doesn’t know where my extra key is.”  I argued.</p><p>“Da one in yer office?”  Murphy asked, eyebrow raised.  “Not dat ‘ard to find.”  </p><p>“He’ll drop it ‘ere later.”  Connor agreed.  “Ya need a rest.”</p><p>“Doc tol us ya keep doin’ it all yerself.”  Murphy nodded.</p><p>They were teaming up against me.  And making good fucking points.  This sucked.  “Still need to get dressed and make us lunch.”</p><p>Another round of knowitall grinning.  “Done.”  Connor said, smug as shit.  </p><p>“Picked up da stuff on yer list on my way back.”  Murphy looked just as fucking pleased with himself.  </p><p>“And some sliced meat, fer sandwiches.”  Connor added.</p><p> </p><p>Taking care of me.  I nearly burst out laughing.  My dad was worried about these two hurting me and they were grocery shopping and watching over me while I fucking slept.  Jesus.</p><p>“Thank you.”  I smiled.  “I still need clothes.”  They looked aghast.  “I am NOT eating in my underwear.”</p><p>“Be like dinner an’ a show fer us.”  Connor pouted.  </p><p>I rolled my eyes and stood from the bed.  Screw kicking them out, apparently they’d had an eyeful while I was out.  I grabbed my jeans off the floor and stood back facing them while I put them back on.  Ignoring their groans, I pulled my t-shirt over my head.  Facing them again, I told them it was time to eat.</p><p> </p><p>HOURS LATER</p><p>Romeo had shown up right around the time I normally would have.  He handed me my key and grabbed a sandwich and a beer that the boys had added to my shopping list.  Since they’d obviously paid, I didn’t care.  They sat laughing while Romeo regaled us with the day he’d spent in my shop.</p><p>“Then this chick, I shit you not,” he was telling us, mouth full of sandwich, and barely chewing, “asked me where Austin was.”  He rolled his eyes.  “Texas, duh.”  </p><p>I groaned, wondering how many sales I lost today.  “She meant Jane Austen, Romeo.”  They all looked at me.  “She’s the author of the classics ‘Sense and Sensibility’ and ‘Pride and Prejudice’.”  Christ, I thought, there are a fuck ton of movies based on the books.  </p><p>“Ah, shit.”  Romeo sighed.  “Thought she laughed cause she thought I was hot.  Fuck.  I think I saw one of those movies too.  My aunt loves that sentimental, romantic bullshit.”  </p><p>I rolled my eyes.  “So aside from that, how was business?”  </p><p>“Really fuckin’ good.”  He said, finishing his sandwich and tossing back the beer.  “Never knew books were that fuckin’ popular.”  I fought back a snort.  “And the coffee?  Fuck those people drank that shit up.”  </p><p>“Good.”  I said, smiling despite myself.  “I’ll go in a little earlier tomorrow.  Make sure everything is ready to go.”</p><p>I heard sighs from both sides of me.  “Do ya have ta?”  Connor asked, as though I was taking away a new toy.<br/>“A break is jus wat ya need.”  Murphy agreed.  </p><p>I shook my head.  “No, it’s my business.  I have to get back to it.”  </p><p>“Tink yer can sleep t’night?”  Murphy asked, voice low and rough.</p><p>I fought against squirming and nodded.  “Sure.”</p><p>Romeo watched the three of us and drained his beer.  “Welp, gotta get back to Doc’s.”  They barely glanced at him.  “Let me know if I can help ya again, Tess.”  </p><p>I nodded and thanked him.  The door clicked behind him and I stood to go lock it.  Connor stopped me, heading that way to flick the locks as Murphy wrapped his arms around me from behind.  </p><p>“Let’s get ya ready fer bed.”  His breath played against my ear and I fought from moaning at the warmth.  </p><p>It was barely seven o’clock.  I had a feeling I wasn’t heading to bed for sleep.  Murphy picked me up, much like his brother had that morning, and carried me to my bedroom.  He’d barely set me down beside the bed, before his mouth claimed mine.  Good lord.  I stood on my toes, reaching to slide my hands into his hair.  Holding him against me, I could taste cigarettes and beer on his tongue.  I didn’t partake in either in pure form, but combined with the taste of him, it was becoming a favorite.  </p><p>“Started witout me?”  Connor admonished from behind his brother.  </p><p>I felt Murphy chuckle against my mouth, and he pulled away.  “Couldn’t ‘elp myself.  Look at ‘er.”  </p><p>Connor stepped to my side, and drunk me in.  “Aye, she’s a beaut.”  He ran a finger along my cheek, and down my neck.  “Tink I can ‘ave a taste?”  He asked, and I nodded, releasing my hand from behind Murphy’s head and pulling him toward me.  </p><p>Still wrapped in Murphy’s arms, Connor’s mouth took mine.  They tasted similar, but Connor’s mouth was more insistent.  He pulled me from Murphy and yanked me to him.  Our bodies pressed together, as I fought to keep up.  Cigarettes and beer, but so much better.  Dear fucking God.  I was going under with these two.  </p><p>I felt Murphy pressed against my back, and I felt that ground rules needed made and fast, before my entire resolve crumbled.  I pulled away from Connor’s mouth and held up a shaking hand.  </p><p>“Stop,”  I gasped for breath.  “Give me a second.  I think I have to let you guys know my rules for this.”  </p><p>They stopped, but didn’t release me from their grasp.  I felt Murphy nod into my shoulder, where he’d been pulling down my t-shirt to taste.  Connor nodded as well.  </p><p>“I’ve never,”  shit, this was awkward.  “I don’t do two at once.”  Dear God, was I blushing again? “I want this, both of you, but I can’t have the two of you together at once.”  Shit, how do you tell two very hot Irishmen you don’t do double penetration?  “I mean-”</p><p>I felt them lightly chuckle against me.  “Ya don want us to be inside ya at once?”  Connor said, putting words to my inability.  I nodded weakly.  </p><p>“Dat’s fine wit us,” Murphy said, his hot breath playing against the slight dampness he’d made on my skin.  “Not much fer feelin’ one ‘nother.”  </p><p>I released a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.  “Then, it’s ok, if I want both of you?”  I was curious, but I didn’t want to choose between them.  It was like picking one side of a coin.  </p><p>Another light laugh.  “Been waitin’ ferever to fin’ a girl who understood dat we’re together.”  Connor said, his breath playing against my lips.</p><p>“Not many girls understand,”  Murphy said, his teeth nipping at my skin lightly as I moaned.  “Dey tink it’s a one off.”  </p><p>“Usually want wat ya don’.”  Connor finished.  His lips brushing mine.  </p><p>I let his lips claim me again, while feeling Murphy’s taste my shoulder.  Dear God, if I had them both at once, like this all the time, I’d fucking die.  Luckily I knew this was simply foreplay.  They were getting me revved up, so one or the other would get first dibs.  Fuck.  </p><p>“So-” I wanted to ask, but wasn’t sure how.</p><p>Another shared chuckle.  “Which one is firs?”  Murphy asked, and answered my issue.  </p><p>Connor pulled away from where his lips had traveled down the other side of my neck.  “Me brudder, he saw ye firs.”  Ah, made sense, I suppose.  “Dis is just cause we need to taste ya.”</p><p>“Like we need air.”  Murphy agreed from the other side of my neck.  “Taste like apples.”</p><p>“An’ strawberries.”  Connor murmured against my skin. </p><p>Dear God, I was on fire.  I needed them, one of them, now.  “Murphy,” my mouth moaned, and I felt them both chuckle against my skin. </p><p>“Already?”  Connor asked, flicking his tongue against my pulsepoint.  “Tot we was jus gettin’ started.”</p><p> </p><p>I arched against him and he nipped at my skin, as Murphy’s hands ran down the length of my body, tugging at the hem of my shirt.  “Don tink we can keep dis goin’.”  His voice was gruff against my shoulder.  “She’s almost crawlin’ outta her skin, Connor.”</p><p>I felt his brother nod, and then, Connor moved.  He lay down on the opposite side of the bed from where we stood.  Oh, not inside at the same time, but together nonetheless.   Watching the two of us, I noticed that he was staying clothed.</p><p>“Can’t take ‘em off, girl.” Connor’s voice was raw and low.  “If I do, won’t be able ter stop meself.”  I gave a shaky nod as Murphy moved to stand in front of me.  </p><p>“Let’s get ya ready for bed,”  he repeated, and even in the dim light of the street lamps filtering through my lace curtains, I could tell how dark his eyes were.  His hands moved back to the hem of my shirt, rough fingertips sliding  under and grazing my skin.  Then he pulled it up and over my head, tossing it at the chair close to my bed.  “Fuck, yer beautiful, Tess.”  His fingers scraped over my skin, setting me on fire.  His fingers found the waistband of my jeans, sliding along the route to the front, he had them unsnapped and unzipped faster than I thought possible.  Kneeling in front of me, he slid them down my legs and I felt my breath leave me.  Shit, he was on his knees in front of me with his head bowed and suddenly I understood the Saint moniker.  I bit my lip, letting my fingers slide through the rough strands of his hair.  I lifted each foot, letting him strip me of my pants.  Feeling his hands slide back up my legs, I felt my arousal grow.  I wasn’t naked yet, and I wanted him so bad I could beg.  </p><p>I felt his breath against my damp panties, and moaned.  “Murphy,” my voice pleaded.  I felt him sigh and then his lips brushed against my wetness through the lace.  My hands clutched his shoulders as my knees shook.  </p><p>“Bes’ lay ‘er down, brudder,” Connor’s voice sounded raspy.  “‘Fore she falls.”  </p><p>Murphy chuckled, the vibrations against me felt like heaven. “She’s nah ready fer bed yet, Connor.”  HIs fingers hooked the waistband of my panties and slid them down my legs.  “Can nah have ‘er half undone, can we?”  </p><p>My eyes closed, and I was panting.  Half undone?  Fuck, I wouldn’t survive one brother, much less two.  I felt his hands roaming back up my body as he rose to his feet.  Far more graceful than I had, I imagined.  I opened my eyes to see him staring down at me with such affection and need that I almost stopped breathing entirely.  His hands moved around my back and unsnapped my bra, the one remaining piece of my clothes standing between me and my sanity.  And then it fell away and I heard his gasp.  “So fuckin’ beautiful.”  His voice was raw and gruff, and I wanted to hear it forever.  Biting his bottom lip, he tilted my head for another kiss, and lifted me in his arms.  “Ready fer bed?”  I nodded, and felt his smile against my lips.  “Good, cause so am I.”  </p><p>He laid me down next to his brother and stepped back.  Murphy didn’t even seem to notice Connor, but I could feel the heat of his skin, even as my eyes never left Murphy’s.  I watched as he tore off his own clothes, and my eyes fluttered as he crawled over me.  “Touch me, Tess.”  He pleaded, and as though I couldn’t help, but do as I was asked, I did.  </p><p>Running my hands over his shoulders, down his arms, I pulled him toward me.  Skin to skin, as his lips claimed mine.  “I can’t wait any longer, Murphy.”  I begged, my voice a breath against his lips.  His answering smile, curving against my own, was the only affirmation I got for my request.  The next movement had him filling me and I lost words and thoughts, as the feeling of completion took over.  Jesus, I thought, feeling him still inside me, what had I been nervous about?  I arched against him and his moan was like choral music.  Fuck.   I bit my lip and rocked my hips, urging him to move.  And then he did.  </p><p>Holy Christ, I thought, thanking goodness I didn’t voice it out loud, because hearing “Lord’s name” being admonished at this point would wreck my tiny shred of control.  Murphy set a slow, torturous pace. Sliding out so I could feel every fucking inch of him and back in just as slow, dear heaven I’d know every vein, every twist, ever bump by heart at this pace.  My head was pressed tight into the pillow, and I was fighting against everything to keep from screaming.  “Don’ hol’ back,”  he growled against my neck, nipping my skin.  “Let us ‘ear ya.”  Us, them, dear lord.  And that made me moan, whimper against his pace, begging without words for him to move faster, to give me MORE.  </p><p>Connor spoke, and my hips lurched against Murphy at the reminder that he was watching.  “Tink she wans yer to move faster, brudder.”  Fuck, he could tell just by watching.  “Torturin’ ‘er ain’t doin’ either o’ya a favor.”  </p><p>That did it, Murphy bit my shoulder and snapped his hips against mine.  My interior walls clamped against  him and he groaned at the feeling.  Suddenly he was everywhere, inside of me, running those harshly calloused hands down my body, digging into my hips, his lips kissing and teeth biting my skin, as he drove himself in and out of me at a frantic speed.  And I was a mess, my hand clutching at his hair, one tangled in the sheet beneath me, crying out with every feeling he was building.  I felt Connor take my hand that was gripping the sheet, and that did it, I screamed as I came, undone, clutching at the two of them, inside and out.  </p><p>Murphy’s thrust stuttered, as he started his own climb.  His movements were less driven, more needy, as his mouth found mine and he kissed me, bringing me along with him.  He swallowed the next scream even as he fed me his own moans.  I felt him spill inside me, and I wrapped my legs around his hips, holding him to me.  I wanted to keep him inside of me for as long as possible.  Him inside, Connor anchoring me to the world with his hand, I felt fuller than I ever had.  Murphy’s head found the crook of my shoulder and he pressed his full weight on top of me.  I sighed in contentment, running my fingers through his sweaty hair, smiling at the feeling of him.  </p><p>As I drifted off to sleep, I wondered if this could work.  Could we work?  I never considered the work they’d come back to Boston to do.  What they’d run away after doing before, didn’t matter.  All that seemed to matter to me was now.  Them and me.  I slid into sleep feeling protected and loved.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I woke sandwiched between two literally hot Irishmen.  Murphy, still as naked as me, had turned onto his left side and had us pressed chest to chest, pelvis to pelvis.  My head was cushioned on his upper arm and his hand curled around to rest on my shoulder.  Connor, curved into my naked back, had clearly stripped to his boxers while I slept since I could feel his naked chest hot against my back.  His left hand held my hip, and while the sun still hadn’t risen yet, I could feel at least one part of him and his brother that had.  </p><p>The light from the streetlamps allowed me to study Murphy in his sleep.  I fought against the urge to touch the sweetness of his sleeping face.  So innocent in rest, almost childlike.  I bit my lip, drinking him in, when I felt Connor’s lips on my shoulder.  A kiss, a flick of his hot tongue against my skin, and I pressed back against him.  </p><p>“Yer awake?”  He breathed against me.  I gave a small nod, not wanting to disturb Murphy.  “Come ‘ere,” he ordered, still just as quiet.  I was afraid to move, afraid of waking Murphy.  “‘E sleeps like da dead.”  He chuckled, rolling me over to his side of the bed as he sat up on his knees.  “Tink it’s my tern now.”  </p><p>I was on my back, looking up at him in the soft glow of the dim light.  Saints, I realized, seeing the halo of light making him almost glow incandescently.  I barely had the time to think about it, because he lowered himself and claimed my mouth.  My hands moved to touch him.  His shoulders, his arms, down his back, I lost myself in him, his kiss and his skin.</p><p>“Ya, ready for me, Tess?”  He breathed against my lips.  I swallowed and nodded.  I felt him shove his underwear down and then we were joined.  I arched up into him and he moaned.  “Yer killin’ me, Tessa.”</p><p> </p><p>He managed to roll us over and keep us linked.  I sat up, my hands pressing into his abdomen, and rolled my hips.  I gasped at the feeling, my eyes closing.  I felt his rough hands move from my hips, along my sides until they finally reached my breasts.  </p><p>“Murphy was right.  Yer fuckin’ beautiful.”  He snapped his hips up, thrusting into me hard.  “Ye like dat, don ya?”  He set a maddening pace, hard, deep, and fast.  “Nah gonna make yer beg, nah dis time a’ leas’.”  He kept thrusting, and talking, good Lord could the mouth on him.  “Gonna give ya exactly wha ya need.”  </p><p>“Yes,” I managed to hiss, as I rode him while he kept that wonderful pace.</p><p>“Take ‘is ‘and, Tess.”  He ordered, knowing I needed the touch of them both.  “Take it.”  He urged.  And I managed to finally lean forward and find Murphy’s hand.  </p><p>“Oh,” I moaned as my first orgasm rushed through me.  “Don’t stop, Connor, don’t fucking stop!”  I begged, as though he needed my pleas.  He kept pounding up into me.  My forehead found his and we stared into one another’s eyes as his rough thumb found my clit and I came undone again.  </p><p>“Dat’s right,” he groaned, thrusting harder as his own orgasm roared out of him.  He moaned, moving to hold my head in place.  We were panting as he started to soften inside me.  I fell forward, weak, my face pressed against Mother Mary.  Catching our breath, letting our heartbeats calm, he held me and I felt him kiss my temple.  </p><p>I chuckled and released my tight grip on Murphy’s hand, even though he didn’t seem to notice.  Still sleeping peacefully, Jesus, I wondered how he managed to ignore the bed movement and our noises.  Connor asked what was funny and I answered.  “We never seem to get around to foreplay, do we?”</p><p>I felt the rumble of his own laughter.  “Bein’ round ya is foreplay for us.”  He gave a soft chuckle into my hair.  “We’d probably die if we tried it, from scratch.”  I rolled off him, curling my backside against Murphy and facing him when he turned.  “Gonna ‘afta wake ‘im.”  He sighed.  “Need ta shower and get ta Mass.”</p><p>A lightbulb went off in my head.  “That’s where you two ran off to yesterday.”  It was a statement, but he nodded.  “There’s a spare key for the door in the first drawer you come to in the kitchen.”  I whispered, cupping him behind his head.  “Take it, please, that way you don’t get the police called on you for breaking OUT of my apartment.”  He smiled, and leaned forward to kiss me.  </p><p>“Ya worried ‘bout us?”  He asked, his lips still against mine.  “We worry ‘bout ya, too.”  He pulled away and I saw the same affection I’d seen in Murphy the night before.  “If somethin’ happens to us,” he started and I opened my mouth to argue.  “Stop, Tess, let me finish.  IF somethin’ happens, we’re gonna leave ya wit our mudder’s number and address.  Get ter ‘er?  Please?  Yer ours, an’ we wan’ ya ta be safe.”  </p><p>I felt fear clutch my heart.  They hadn’t come here to fall in love with me.  They’d come for business.  A horrible joke that I now knew.  I realized that this was their way of making sure it didn’t touch me.  Giving me their mother’s information, giving me someone to talk to just in case.  <br/>I nodded, but felt my face fall at the thought of losing them, either of them or both.  It would wreck me.  </p><p>“Now, luv, don borrow trouble.”  Connor warned, kissing me again.  “We been fine dis long.”  I shook my head.  “Dos scars?  Does it look like dey stopped us?”  </p><p>“No, but,” I began, and his finger pressed against my lips to stop me again.  </p><p>“Don do dat.”  He whispered, and I realized he was convincing himself as much as me.  “Jus let us luv ya.  We’ll keep ya free of da stain o’ wha we do.”  His eyes looked so pained, that I relented.</p><p> </p><p>“Leave her information near the phone in the living room.”  I whispered, feeling Murphy’s hand moving my hair out of his way so he could kiss my shoulder.  “I’ll use it if I have to.”  I smiled and pressed back against Murphy.  “Thought he was going to have to wake you.”  I whispered and felt his lips curl against my skin.  </p><p>“Got too tense in ‘ere.”  He whispered, pressing soft kisses along my back.  “Woke up ‘cause Connor ‘s so worried dat I felt it inside.”  I nodded.  “Glad ‘e ‘ad the conversation, usually ‘e’s too cocky fer ‘is own good.”  </p><p>I sighed, feeling peaceful despite the worry that was flowing around the three of us.  I wouldn’t borrow trouble.  I couldn’t let it overwhelm me.  And I couldn’t have them worry about me and get hurt.  As the sun rose, and Connor went off to shower, I rolled over to kiss Murphy.  I would take every moment I had with the two of them and cherish them.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I knew, as surely as I knew my own name, that loving the MacManus brothers wouldn’t always be rainbows and butterflies.  They killed bad men.  Bad men who had vast resources.  Which was how, after nights slept between the two of them and the hours we spent locked in our own passionate bubbles, I found myself in this current mess.</p><p>The day started normally.  Well, my new normal anyway.  Snuggled between the two men I loved, and who loved me.  Connor, still naked from the night before, spooned against my back.  Murphy was wearing his shorts, but cradling my head on his arm and pressed tight against my front.  Waking this way was as natural as breathing.  </p><p>As was Murphy’s mouth curving over mine, waking early just for me.  His shorts were soon forgotten, as he pressed me down into the mattress and Connor’s hand linked with mine.  Natural. </p><p>Murphy got to shower first, while Connor kept me company.  We’d kiss, we’d assure one another that they’d be safe and so would I.  We’d chat about nothing and everything, but not the one topic off limits.  We wouldn’t talk about their ‘business’.  </p><p>That didn’t mean I didn’t know what they’d done so far.  My customers were gossips, all of them, and so I had learned early on about the killings that happened when they’d barely touched land.  Asian’s packaging drugs and the mob guys keeping them company, dead.  My dad was a font of knowledge.  Daily briefings about the goings on in Boston, that’s how I knew about the massacre at the Mexican restaurant.  Probably a restaurant connected to Romeo, I thought, but didn’t say aloud.  And even though we didn’t speak about it, I knew there’d be more.  They weren’t done, not by a long shot.</p><p>Connor had kept his word, and the promise that Murphy had reiterated.  No one seemed to know that I knew them, much less that we were involved.  So far I’d only been asked the bare bones questions that everyone on the same street as Doc’s were asked.  That suspiciously sweet southern FBI agent, Eunice Bloom, how surprised she seemed to be to find a good ole West Virginia girl living in South Boston.  She gave me her card and seemed to cross me right off the list.  </p><p>Guess that’s why I developed a false sense of security.  </p><p>After they both showered, kissed me soundly goodbye, and grabbed their rosary beads from the coat rack that they’d taken to hanging them on, they went off to Mass.  Such good Catholic boys, I’d thought, drawing a morning bath.  I had a bit before I was due to open the store, and I planned on taking advantage of it.  After I’d soaked and bathed, I put on what the boys affectionately called my ‘uniform’.  T-shirt, wine red this time, skinny jeans, my ballet flats, and braided my long hair down my back.  Glasses on my nose, jacket on, and bag slung across my shoulder, I locked the door, and headed to work.  </p><p>The day went normally.  They’d stopped in as my first customers, got their daily coffee, pressed me against the nearest bookcase and once again kissed the breath out of me.  Then, with a promise that it might be a late night for them, but they’d be home before I could miss them, they were off.  I worked the whole day not knowing that this could very well be my last on earth.  </p><p>I locked the store at the end of the day, and was about to turn toward home when everything went dark.  </p><p> </p><p>When I regained consciousness, I was in a room with peeling wallpaper.  I could smell tomatoes for some odd reason, and the sound of crackling music, like from a record player.  No, I thought, blinking against the dust motes floating through the beams of sunlight coming through the dirty window, like a phonograph.  My grandma had one, and that’s how the music she had played on it sounded.  I was about to shout when I realized I couldn’t.  I wasn’t in my right mind yet, so I hadn’t noticed that I was gagged.  And tied to a bed, I realized as I couldn’t move my hands or legs.  Great, I thought, kidnapped.</p><p>I heard the music stop and then heard the sound of footsteps approaching.  The door to the room opened and an elderly man entered.  </p><p>“Ah, you’re awake.”  He said, accent heavy.  “Good, good.  I worried the idiot boy had screwed up the dosage and you were damaged.”  </p><p>I tried to speak, but the gag was still there.  Damn it.  He moved closer to the bed and looked down at me.  Studying me, it seemed.  He had a tomato in his hand, that would explain the smell, I thought.  He looked me over.  Careful to take note that my glasses were still unbroken, and that I didn’t appear to have any marks on me.  I knew that he was taking in these details because he was muttering it as he looked.    </p><p>“The glasses,” he gestured to my face, “are they necessary?”  </p><p>I once again started to speak, rolled my eyes at the impossibility, and nodded.  He smiled, but it didn’t calm my fears.  He pulled a chair close to the bed I was trapped on and sat down.  </p><p>“You’re not what I expected.”  He said, and I was pissed that he seemed to find fault in me.  Why I cared, I have no idea.  Brain still wonky, I guess.  “The two of them?”  He said, and I realized why I was here.  </p><p>I closed my eyes and took a breath.  Why did I give a solid shit what this asshole thought about my relationship with my men?  It might be unconventional, but it was real.  It also landed me in this mess, but fuck you, I wanted to scream.  </p><p>He chuckled.  “I mean no offense.  I’m just curious, I suppose.”  I opened my eyes to see him taking a bite out of the tomato.  Eww, I thought, just like my family.  “Are you hungry?”  I shook my head, glaring at the tomato.  “I have other foods here, I could fetch you something?”  I shook harder.  Dude, you fucking roofied me to get me here, no thanks to more poisoning.  He sighed.  “Perhaps I’m understanding their attraction.  Stubborn, just like them, like their papa.”  I felt my eyes widen.  Their dad?  What the literal fuck?</p><p>He sat with me for a while longer then left.  I didn’t know if it was an improvement to be alone or not.  I was fully awake and aware now.  Once I heard his footfalls fade, I started testing the bindings.  My hands were the tighter of the two sets, clearly whomever tied me up considered my short legs less worrisome.  Good, I thought, I could possibly work with that shortsightedness.  </p><p>I kicked my feet, trying to see how loose the kidnapper had left them.  Not loose enough, I realized, smacking my head down on the pillow they’d considerately provided.  A puff of dust enveloped my head.  Or they were trying to kill me by aggravating my allergies, I thought as I sneezed.  Well, fuck.  And Connor and Murphy wouldn’t even notice until they got home from their latest job.  </p><p>It was still light out, but wait, that didn’t make any fucking sense.  It was too bright.  I’d been gone a full night, at least.  Then they knew.  My heart soared.  Then plummeted.  Shit, that what old dick tomato eater wanted.  For them to find me, I was bait.  If they could even find me, if they knew who ODTE was.  I fought against my fear and upset.  They’d find me.  We’d be fine.  </p><p>Since I had time on my hands, well brain, since the hands were bound, I decided to make a list of what I needed to do once I was free.  There would be no more negative thoughts, I decided, instead I’d make plans.  Now, what had I been putting off doing for months.  First, I thought, I should definitely think about cleaning out the fridge.  Between the leftovers and the lost beer, it could take hours.  Upgrading the bedroom linens would be a good idea.  I’d have to do some shopping and maybe I’d take the guys with me.  I should learn to bake, after all, the money I put into the bakery’s pocket could be refunnelled back to myself.  </p><p>With a new flash of panic I realized something I hadn’t done in months, perhaps too many months.  Shit, why hadn’t I heard the reminder on my Blackberry?  I’d set it, hadn’t I?  I closed my eyes and sank into the bed.  Dear Lord (Lord’s name), tell me I wasn’t so irresponsible that I forgot to do the ONE thing that made having unprotected sex with the two of them no worry?  I tried to think back to the last time I’d gone in for my shot.  Why was I remembering summer?  Why was I remembering sweating on the walk back?  Fuck, fuck, fuck.  </p><p>I could be carrying a little MacManus right now inside of me.  Shit.  Well, so much for making lists.  Now the panic rose up within me.  Along with bile, and I had to force it back down, making my throat burn.  Tessa, now is not the fucking time to worry about this, I told myself.  Now is the time to worry about when they’d find me.  Then, after we were free from this old weirdo, I could make sure I was remembering the last time correctly.  If I did, then I’d take a test in a few weeks.  No big deal.  I’m over thirty.  I have my own business.  And I’m in love with two vigilante killers.  What could possibly go wrong?</p><p> </p><p>I must have dozed off, because I awoke to gunfire.  Fighting against my bindings, I tried to scream, but the gag in my mouth was more than effective in keeping me quiet.  It sounded like a war was going on around me, downstairs and I think I heard something massive fall.  Then silence.  Men in dark swat gear barged in and found me bound to the bed.  After making certain that the room was clear, except for me, of course, they untied me.  Once the gag was gone, I asked the only question that mattered to me.</p><p>“Are Connor and Murphy alright?”  I gasped out, not caring if any of them made assumptions.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next hours were a blur.  Connor and Murphy were arrested, as was Romeo.  They were wounded, and apparently the MacManus patriarch had died.  I was sitting in an interrogation room facing the most pompous asshole I’d ever met.  Kuntsler.  Honestly, these jokes write themselves.  </p><p>“You’re telling me you knew NOTHING of the brothers’ plans.”  He asked for the millionth time it seemed.  “You were fucking the two of them and no pillow talk?”  </p><p>I glared at him.  Disgusting pervert.  “Do you tell all to the sad sacks that are desperate enough to screw you?”  I bit back, feeling like I wanted to throw up.  “No, I knew nothing about their plans.  I didn’t want to and they wanted me to be safe.”</p><p>He laughed at me.  “How did that work out for you?”  He returned, looking so smug that I wanted to hit him.  “My men found you tied to a fucking bed, princess.  Wonder why you’d be taken?”  He tapped his lip in mock contemplation.  “Maybe because you fucked the wrong bad boys.  Aren’t you a little old for that stereotype?”  </p><p>Great first you insult my choice of relationships.  Now I’m an old spinster.  “Am I being held for something?  You didn’t read me my rights, so I imagine I’m not.”  I stood up and so did he.  “I’m leaving.  IF you plan on charging me with being a victim of kidnapping, please let me know.”  I opened the door with more force than he expected then slammed it behind me.  Fucking asshole.  </p><p>I called a cab when I got outside.  The station was too far to walk, now that I felt like I was going to pass out from the stress.  When I got inside the car, I told the nice man my address, then sat back and contemplated how to contact them.  I knew they wouldn’t want me to visit them, wherever they’d been taken.  I still had Special Agent Bloom’s card, but from what I could gather from the moron who interrogated me, she was gone.  Sighing, I handed some cash to the cabbie when he pulled in front of my apartment building, then rode the elevator up.  When I got inside my apartment, my eyes fell on the pad by the phone in my living room.  They told me to call her.  </p><p>Picking up the phone, I brought the pad closer and dialed.  It was time to call their mother.</p><p>The phone rang several times before she picked up.  “‘Ello.”  </p><p>I cleared my throat and closed my eyes.  “Hello?  Is this Annabelle MacManus?”  I knew I sounded shaky, because I was.  </p><p>“Ah, dey tol me ye’d be callin’.”  I heard a deep throaty chuckle come over the line.  “Tessa, is it?”</p><p>I smiled, feeling a tear run down my cheek that they’d warned her ahead of time.  Told her about me, even.  “Yes, ma’am, it is.”  I sighed, and brushed the tear away.  “They told me to call you if anything happened.”  </p><p>She sighed, a mother’s worst nightmare, this kind of call.  “Dey make it out?”  </p><p>I nodded, and felt foolish for it.  “Yes, they did.  But they were arrested.”  I gasped, my heart clenching at the thought of them being locked up with criminals.  “And their father-”</p><p>“Aye, didn’t tink he’d make it dis time.”  She replied.  “Dey want ye ter come ter me, Tessa.”  It wasn’t a question.</p><p>“I know, but I have a business, and family.”  I said, thinking it was such a lame and worthless answer.  I didn’t want to try to return to the old normal.  Without them coming in daily for coffee, and kissing me senseless. </p><p>“Do yer wan ter stay der?”  She asked, clearly reading my mind through the phone.  “Will ya be safe wit out dem?”</p><p>Would I?  If one vendetta bound asshole had found me, why couldn’t others?  “I’ll have to make arrangements.  I should go see them.  And I’ll have to sell everything.”  Easily fixed, I thought.  Too easy.</p><p>“Call me tomorrow.”  Annabelle ordered.  “Call me anytime.”  </p><p>“Thank you.”  I whispered, feeling like my heart was breaking.  </p><p>She chuckled, not a happy sound anymore.  “Yer family, Tess.  Me boys love yer, and so will I.”  </p><p>We said our goodbyes, after I gave her my cell phone number and my landline at the store.  They had given her the apartment number.  Making promises to call each day, I hung up and made a new list.  A list of how to leave my life behind and begin a new one.  </p><p> </p><p>TWO WEEKS LATER~ HOAG MAXIMUM SECURITY PRISON VISITOR’S ROOM</p><p>I walked in, worried about how they’d receive me.  Every phone call we managed, between calls to Annabelle, had been tense.  They were worried that me coming would put more in more danger, and I think they feared me leaving.  When they walked into a room that I’d had to make God knew how many calls to get, the fear left me.  </p><p>Connor and Murphy looked the same, well with a few extra scars, taking me in just like the first day we met.  We stood just drinking one another in, until a guard reminded us that we didn’t have a lot of time.  Sitting across from them, when all I wanted to do was fall into their arms was the most difficult thing I ever had to do.  </p><p>“Tessa.”  They breathed, in unison, just like I felt their conversations in their own heads must sound.  </p><p>I tried to smile, but I was sure I was failing.  “Murphy, Connor.”  I answered.  They reached across the table with their dominant hands, and I took each one in one of mine.  “I’m sorry.”  I said, feeling the ever present tears gather in the corner of my eyes.</p><p>“Whatcha sorry fer?”  Murphy asked, his thumb trying to sooth my tenseness away.  </p><p>“Twasn’t yer fault.”  Connor agreed.  “Woulda gone after ‘im even if yer weren’t der.”</p><p>Murphy nodded his agreement.  “‘E wouldna quit, Tess.  Not til Da was dead.”</p><p>That broke me, their dad was dead.  “Did you know your father put me in charge of his remains?”  I asked, gasping for breath.  “I’ve never met him.  Why would he?”</p><p>“Musta done it before we went.”  Murphy muttered, glaring at his brother.  </p><p>Connor agreed.  “Sorry, Tessa, we didna know.”  His thumb was rubbing my other hand.  </p><p>“I didn’t think you did.”  I replied, my voice thick with tears.  “What should I do with him?”  I was so confused, did I ship him back to Ireland?  Did I have him buried here?</p><p>I felt them looking at one another and didn’t have the fight in me to argue with their internal conversations.  </p><p>“‘E’d wanna be buried back ‘ome.”  Connor whispered.  </p><p> </p><p>“We’ve da money.”  Murphy agreed.  </p><p>I held up a hand I took from Connor.  “It’s fine.  I can take care of it.”  I nodded and took my other hand from Murphy.  “I’m going there soon anyway.”  I looked up at them and saw them smiling.  “Annabelle wants me to come.” </p><p>“Our mudder wans to meet ya.”  Murphy said, his smile growing.  </p><p>“Musta impressed ‘er.”  Connor agreed, matching Murphy’s smile.</p><p>I grinned through the pain of leaving them.  “Yeah, I guess so.  I’ve put the store up for sale.  I have a few offers, and the rest is going in storage.”  I shrugged.  “I should be ready to leave by the end of the week.”</p><p>“So soon?”  Connor whispered, taking my hand back.  </p><p>Murphy took the other.  “Dis is our firs visit.”  </p><p>I nodded.  “I know.  I have to go now though.”  I couldn’t tell them, not here, why time was of the essence.  “If I don’t, I may talk myself out of it.”  They nodded their understanding, even if they didn’t really know the truth.  “When you get out of here,” I knew there was a plan, I didn’t know the details, but Annabelle had given me enough to guess, “come home.”  I stood up and the guard stepped forward.  “Could I,” I looked up at the guard and pleaded with my voice and eyes, “could I say goodbye to them properly, please?”  </p><p>The guard looked conflicted for a second, but then he relented.  He knew my boys weren’t the type to harm me, or him.  Stepping back to the wall, Connor and Murphy stood and walked to me.  Wrapping me in their arms, I kissed them both goodbye.  When I turned from them and walked away, I felt a part of me stay behind with them.</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I was met at the airport by a lovely older Irish priest.  He introduced himself and I realized he was my guys’ uncle.  Uncle Sibeal, he told me, good luck with that pronunciation, I thought.  He took me to Annabelle’s home.  I’m not sure what I was expecting, honestly, seeing as I’d only ever spoken with her over the phone.  </p><p>Annabelle MacManus was a robust and loud woman.  I liked her immediately.  She reminded me of my own family.  Opinionated, a drinker, and one of the strongest women I’d ever met.  She took one look at me and asked two questions.</p><p>“Did ya brin’ me ol man back wit ye?”  I nodded, his body was being brought along tomorrow from the flight I’d paid for him to be on.  She smiled at my charity.  And followed up with a doozy. “‘Ow far long are ye?”  </p><p>I felt my knees shake.  Dear Lord, I wasn’t even showing.  “What do you-  I’m not sure I-”  I stuttered through several false starts as she stood waiting for her answer.  “A month, at most.”  I whispered.  </p><p>She gave a gleeful chuckle and hugged me to her soft body.  “Ah, MacManus babies.”  She sighed as she gave me a loud kiss on my cheek.  “Been far too long since der cradle’s held babes.”  She sat me down at her table and ladled something into a bowl, but when the scent of it hit my nose I ran outside and threw up the snacks I’d eaten on the flight.  I felt her standing at the door watching and I burned with shame.  “Cabbage tis off de menu den.”  She announced, and when I came back in the house I noticed the smell was gone.  </p><p>Sibeal was sitting at the table watching the entire thing.  Great, a priest who could judge me harshly.  “Ah, I can see dat yer tinkin’ I judge ye fer yer condition.”  He shook his head.  “Nah gonna happen, my dear.”  I sat down beside him and felt him pat my hand.  “Not like ye could marry ‘em both, is it?”  </p><p>I closed my eyes, thinking that the floor swallowing me would be wonderful right about now.  Knocked up by at least one twin, unmarried, unemployed, although I was flush with cash because the store sold surprisingly fast, and now sitting in one of the most Catholic countries in the world.  Yeah, life was sweet.</p><p>“Do ya tink ye can ‘old down dis?”  Annabelle asked, pushing some bread in front of me and offering butter.  I nodded, and took a slice.  Thinly buttering it, I tried not to notice the two of them watching me.  “Yer far prettier den I expected.”  </p><p>Sibeal was nodding.  “Do ya remember tat one girl?”  He asked, and got Annabelle cackling.</p><p>“Da one wit da weird ‘air?”  She gasped out between laughter.</p><p>“Na, da one wit all da extra holes.”  They were now both laughing so hard I thought they’d fall out of their chairs.  </p><p>I sat, nibbling on my bread, listening to the two of them reminisce about Connor and Murphy’s greatest or most embarrassing hits.  I found myself giggling when they got into a story about their fight over some girl.  They still did that, not over me, but the fighting.  </p><p>“Yer good fer dem.”  Annabelle declared, looking at the tiny bit of my bread left.  “But my grandbabies need more nutrition.”  </p><p>Grandbabies?  Um, no.  “I’m sure there’s only-”</p><p>“One?”  She finished for me.  “So was I.”  She shook her head and went to find me something else to eat.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>FOUR MONTHS LATER~  ANNABELLE’S HOUSE</p><p>It was late and I was in my room.  Well, it was their room, but Annabelle declared that it was meant for me.  The babies had been extra active today and I was worn out.  Yes, babies.  Jesus (Lord’s name), that woman was clairvoyant.  She’d practically danced during the ultrasound that the doctor insisted on when he thought he heard more than one heartbeat.  I rolled my eyes at the memory.</p><p>Four months in Ireland and I had a new, new normal.  I woke early, or as early as I could, and helped Annabelle with the little bit of upkeep that the house required.  Then, I walked to the town and worked at a small coffee shop.  I’d been granted a work visa pretty quickly, which I chose to not think about, and that made my days go faster.  Then home to dinner, which Annabelle was appalled to see had to be bland or everything I’d ever ingested would purge from me.  </p><p>“Me own blood and dey don like nothin’ good.”  She glared at my bump that grew steadily as though they were traitors.  “No cabbage, no corned beef.  Barely anyting dat has flavor.”  She shook her head.  </p><p>I laughed at her.  She was so determined that the babies would be very Irish, that she failed to get that my genetics were strong too.  “Guess that’s what happens when two good Irish lads fall in love with a southern American girl.”  I would offer, which she’d scoff at and rip off enough Gaelic to make my head spin.  <br/>I was chuckling to myself, trying to find a position on the bed that would make the babies calm down and let me rest, when I heard a noise downstairs.  Looking at my alarm clock I was curious who’d be coming to visit so late at night.  Then I heard them.  Their voices that I could pick out from halfway across the world.  Surely not.  They would have told me.  </p><p>I rolled out of bed and made my way down the stairs.  When my foot found the final stair, I could see into the kitchen.  And like a dream, there they were.  Connor and Murphy MacManus hugging their mom and not having a single idea that I was pregnant.</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I contemplated rushing back up the stairs while their backs were still to me, but that last step squeaked, just as I turned.  Fuck.  I closed my eyes, hoping no one heard, after all they were locked in an embrace with their mom.</p><p>“Tessa.”  My name, in unison again.  Damn it.  “Darlin’ dat you?”  Connor finished.</p><p>I opened my eyes and wished that I’d had the forethought to throw on a robe over the tight nightgown I was wearing.  Once they focused on ALL of me, they’d know.  Shit.  “Connor,”  I turned around and felt my breath leave me.  “Murphy.”  My face crumpled and I felt so overcome with emotions that I sobbed.  Damn hormones.  </p><p>They rushed forward and wrapped their arms around me.  Hushing me, clearly too worried about my sudden outburst than me clearly visible bump, they held me and kissed my hair.  Their scent was all around me, cigarettes and that soapy smell, but then it was overwhelming and I pulled harshly away and ran to the bathroom.  The vomit spewed from me as soon as I had the toilet seat up.  I felt them behind me and couldn’t even find it in me to care.  This was all due to their demon spawn after all.</p><p>“Tessa?”  Murphy whispered, the worry heavy in his voice.  </p><p>“Yer ok?”  Connor asked, his brother’s worry reflected in his own tone.  </p><p>Once everything was gone, and I mean everything, I flushed the toilet and rose to my feet.  Moving to the sink, I grabbed the toothbrush that had a sister in every available room in the house.  Carefully brushing my teeth, I waited them out.  I felt them leave the doorway and sighed, spitting the toothpaste out and rinsing my mouth.  It was time for a pep talk to the MacManus nightmares I was carrying.  </p><p>“Listen up, kiddos, your daddies are home.”  I whispered, cradling my small bump in my hands.  “So calm the fuck down, would ya?”  </p><p>I could hear them talking to their mother as I left the bathroom.  I hovered out of sight, wanting to be a coward and let Annabelle tell them.  “It’s ‘er secret ter tell.”  I heard the woman I’d come to love telling them.  Damn it, she wasn’t going to throw me a bone.  “She’ll tell ya when she wants ter.”  </p><p>I stepped out from my hiding spot.  My arms were crossed over my chest, which was growing almost as rapidly as my bump.  “I didn’t get the heads up you were heading home.”  I said, breaking up the clearly tense atmosphere in the kitchen.  I noticed that Annabelle had made me a cup of green tea, she knew that it helped after one of my episodes.  </p><p>“Couldn tell ya.”  Connor said, as I took my seat at the table.  </p><p>“Couldn tell anyone.”  Murphy agreed, sitting in the chair to my right.  Connor took the one at my left and Annabelle sat across from me.  “Are ya sick, Tess?”  </p><p>I chuckled, and glanced at Annabelle who was smiling back at me.  “Only sometimes.”  I answered, waiting to see how truly unobservant the two of them were.  “Just when something is too smelly to deal with.”  Annabelle laughed at that one.</p><p>“Mudder,”  Connor admonished.  “Tisn’t funny.  She should see a doctor.”</p><p>Now I laughed, hard.  “I have.”  I answered, and looked up to see the two of them staring at me like they had when I was delirious from exhaustion.  “Don’t worry, it’ll pass in about five months.”  Annabelle caught my eye and we shared another fit of giggles. </p><p>“Damn it, women.”  Connor growled, glaring between us.  </p><p>Murphy’s glare came next.  “Dis isn’t funny.”  </p><p>I took one of each of their hands in mine.  “No, it isn’t.”  I agreed, sobering.  </p><p>“Naught at all,”  Annabelle agreed, taking their other hands in hers.  </p><p>I looked at her and she gave me a nod.  “I’m pregnant, boys.”  They paled, the both of them, and I was worried for a moment that they’d faint.  Annabelle shook her head at me and I could tell that she wanted me to wait.</p><p>“Pregnant?”  They breathed together.  </p><p>“Tessa,” Connor whispered, clutching at my hand.</p><p>“Is it only da one?”  Murphy finished, drawing my attention back to him.</p><p>I shook my head and their hands tightened on mine and I imagine their mom’s.  “Twins.”  I answered as their focus held on me.  </p><p>Annabelle released their hands and stood.  “‘M goin’ ta bed.”  She announced and kissed each of us on the head as she passed.  “‘Ave a good night.”  And she chuckled as she made her way to her room.</p><p>“Let’s get ya ready fer bed, Tessa.”  Murphy said, voice thick.  </p><p>“I’ll jus lock up.”  Connor answered, moving to the door.</p><p>Murphy tugged me to my feet and finally gazed on the obvious bump.  Before he could take me upstairs, his hands fell to my bump.  And then he was kneeling in front of me, tugging up my nightshirt, and kissing the swell.  Connor had come back and joined him in kneeling before me.  His hands replaced Murphy’s and then his lips were kissing the bump.  </p><p>“Our babies.”  Murphy whispered, rising to his feet and finally kissing me.  </p><p>“Aye,”  Connor agreed, standing on the other side of me and asking for his own kiss.  “My tern, Tessa.”  He whispered, kissing me softly.  </p><p>“Ah, Tess, we’ve missed ya.”  Murphy’s voice, quiet and low, the heat of it against my shoulder.  And it was just like that first night with them, only this time, they carried me together upstairs and into OUR room.</p><p> </p><p>THE NEXT MORNING</p><p>“Dese beds are smaller dan I remember.”  Connor groaned, clutching me to him, back to his front as always. </p><p>I giggled as Murphy glared at the sunlight shining in the windows.  “‘Nd de curtains don do shit against da sun.”  </p><p>Another round of giggles bubbled from me as Murphy’s skin pressed against my front.  “You two are ridiculous.”  I said, kissing Murphy then Connor.  “You’re free, and we’ve put two beds together to make this one, the sun’s shining because you’re home.  Stop bitching.”  I sat up and felt the two of them follow suit.  I was naked.  Of course I was, since they were home, clothing would become redundant in our bedroom.  </p><p>After many kisses, a fight over the shower (between them, not me, of course), throwing on clothes, I made my way downstairs.  Annabelle was cooking, I could hear it so I stopped on the stairs.  </p><p>“Do nah worry, tis all babe approved food.”  She shouted, hearing that damn stair moan no doubt.  I laughed and joined her.  “Dose babes disappoint der nanna.”  She gave a mock glare at my bump.  </p><p>“I’m sure once they’re here, they’ll love the local cuisine.”  I said, smoothing her fears.  “For now, they’re inside me, and since I’m not a fan-”</p><p>She rolled her eyes at me and chuckled.  Handing me a cup of tea, she glanced upwards.  “Where are dem lads o’ mine?”  She asked, then eyes twinkling she looked down at me.  “Wear ‘em out did ya?”  </p><p>I choked on my sip of tea.  Sputtering and hearing her laugh, I cleaned up the mess I made.  “You are incorrigible.”  I accused, and smirked at her.  “And, no I didn’t.  I’m an expectant mother, haven’t you noticed?”  </p><p>“Aye, and ‘ow’d yer become one?”  She shot back.  “Gonna ‘aveta buy some earplugs.” She shook her head and I felt my blush burn.  “Dere it is.  Knew I’d get one outta ya.”  </p><p>I shook my head with restrained laughter.  “You’re terrible.  Honestly, Annabelle!”  </p><p>“Wat’s goin’ on in ‘ere?”  Connor asked, finished his hard one first shower I saw.  </p><p>“Your mother is terrorizing me.”  I tattled, feeling the heat of his body against the back of my chair.  His hands were on my shoulders, and I tilted my head back and his lips met mine.  “She’s insinuating that we were loud last night.”  I said when he pulled away.  </p><p>“Dat wasn’t us.”  Murphy offered, coming into the room moments after his brother and kneeling at my right to get his own kiss.  </p><p>I looked up at Annabelle in triumph, until the two of them threw me under the bus.  “Dat was ‘er, Mudder.”  They were pointing at me.  The assholes.  My triumph shot low, I pinched my lips as the laughter finally took over me.  </p><p>“You all suck.”  I said, drinking my now tepid tea.  “First the babies that hate the smell of EVERYTHING.”  I glared briefly at my stomach.  “ Then a grandma who mocks a poor first time mother.”  I shook my head at Annabelle.  “And the fathers?  Don’t get me started.”  I said as the two of them took their seats at the table.  </p><p>“Don be like dat,”  Murphy said, taking my hand.</p><p>Connor took the other.  “Dat’s right.  We love ya.”  </p><p>“We all love ya,”  Annabelle interjected, filling plates with the food she’d made.  “Even if ya ‘ave da taste buds of a wee babe.”  She smiled down at me.  </p><p>“I know,”  I said, smiling at all of them.  “But the hormones, ugh.”  I ran my hand over my bump.  “I never know what’s going to make me laugh, what’s going to make me cry, and what’s going to make me throw up.”  </p><p>“We’re ‘ere now, Tess.”  Connor reminded me.</p><p>“Yer not alone,”  Murphy gave me their promise.</p><p>Annabelle snorted.  “And wha was I?”  She asked, giving each of us a plate.  “She weren’t alone before, ya ninnies.”  She sat with her own.  “She needs comfortin’.  She needs less worry.”  She shot pointed looks at her sons.  “She needs ter know yer nah ‘eadin’ back ter the life.” </p><p>I felt the two of them talking to one another and so did she.  She held my focus as they discussed their next steps.  </p><p>Murphy and Connor sighed.  “We only got released cause of Smecker.”  Connor admitted.  </p><p>“‘E made good on keepin’ us on da outside.”  Murphy agreed.  </p><p>I nodded, of course, I’d read about Smecker.  He was their help on the inside.  An FBI agent who kept them free before.  I’d thought he’d died.  “I understand,” I whispered, biting into my toast.</p><p>“No, ya don.”  Murphy answered.  Shaking his head and forcing me and his mother to keep our attention on the twins.  </p><p>“‘Da deal is we gotta keep workin’, but not for a bit.”  Connor replied, taking a bite of his own food.  </p><p>Murphy smiled, reassuring me.  “Las time took eight years to get us back.”</p><p> </p><p>That was true, I thought.  It was what brought them into my life.  I felt Connor’s hand on mine again.  </p><p>“We’re ‘ere, and we plan on bein’ ‘ere fer dem.”  He gestured to my bump.  “And fer ya.”  </p><p>Annabelle nodded, clearly approving of this new plan for our lives.  She glanced at the clock.  “Tessa?  Do ya work today?”  It was growing close for my usual time.  </p><p>I shook my head.  “No, the owner saw how active the babies were yesterday and gave me today off.”  I smiled at how kind the people were here.  “He said to let him know if I need more.”  </p><p>The boys were watching us.  “Ya could quit now.”  Connor offered.  </p><p>I smiled.  “I don’t have to work at all, Connor.”  I remembered the more than fair price I’d gotten for my store, and the ease of selling off other non-essentials.  I had more cash than I needed for some time.  </p><p>“So why are ya?”  Murphy asked, eating his own breakfast, but as laser focused as his brother.  </p><p>“Been askin’ ‘er the same ting since she started.”  Annabelle offered.  I rolled my eyes at the three of them.  </p><p>“I like to work.”  I said, shaking my head.  “It gets me out and around people.”  </p><p>“Tis gettin’ harder tho, isn’t it?”  Connor asked, his hand still holding mine.  </p><p>I sighed, yes, it was.  And I wasn’t even halfway through my pregnancy.  “What would I do if I didn’t work?”  I asked, glancing at the three of them.</p><p>“Could find us a house.”  Murphy replied, shrugging his shoulder.  </p><p>“Den yer could spend da time fixin’ it fer da babies.”  Annabelle agreed, clearly warming to the idea.  </p><p>“A place nearby, but wit more room.”  Connor offered, and I was thinking they’d been discussing this without me, but when?</p><p>I sat back, and studied the three of them.  “Where is it?”  I knew that they’d come up with this together, maybe not with the knowledge of my pregnancy, but definitely a set up.  </p><p>“Where’s what?”  Connor asked too innocently to be believable.  </p><p>I raised an eyebrow and Murphy soothed me with his confession.  Truly my favorite twin.  “We jus thot when we got out, dat we’d want our own place wit ya.”  </p><p>I shook my head and chuckled.  I was adding two more to this family of goofballs.  “So?” I asked, “Where is it?”  </p><p>“Go get dressed,”  Connor replied with a smile.  </p><p>“We’ll take ya when yer ready.”  Annabelle agreed with her own grin.</p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I went up the stairs to our bedroom and had to wonder when Annabelle and her sons had made the plans for house hunting.  That stank of her knowing that they’d be headed home.  I was curious, however, about what houses that their mother had looked into.  What type of house did Annabelle think would be right for the three of them and their twins?  </p><p>I pulled a pretty dress over my top of my bra and underwear set.  While my breasts were heavy from pregnancy, the colostrum hadn’t begun yet, for which I was thankful.  I’d found nursing pads and had them on hand, but was happy that I hadn’t needed them.  Sliding on my ballet flats, brushing and braiding my hair over my shoulder, I cleaned my glasses and put them on to complete my house seeing look.  </p><p>When I came down the stairs, I noticed the guys weren’t wearing their peacoats, but had put on heavy wool sweaters, as they grabbed my own coat from the hook by the door.  I raised an eyebrow and Connor chuckled.</p><p>“De babes don like how we smell in dem.”  He offered as reasoning.  </p><p>Murphy nodded, making sure that I was tucked into my own jacket.  “Cant ‘ave dere mudder tossin’ ‘er breakfast all over da cobbles can we?”  </p><p>I smiled as Annabelle joined us in by the door.  “Do I get a preview of where we’re heading?”  I asked, as they pulled me outside.  I realized they had a vehicle.  Thank heavens, I thought walking or taking the bus would be a trial depending how far we were going.</p><p>Annabelle shook her head.  “Nah.  Tis a surprise.”  She grinned and I squinted at her.  </p><p>“You’re just as mischievous as they are.”  I accused. </p><p>“Yer don know da ‘alf of it.”  Murphy chuckled, tucking me into the back seat with their mother.  </p><p>Connor nodded, taking the driver’s seat.  “Has she told ya ‘bout da night she had us tinkin’ she killed ‘erself?”  </p><p>I shook my head, knowing I was being diverted, but loving to hear their stories.  Knowing more about them with every single memory they shared.  The tale launched, the trio added here and there and I laughed as one tale ran to another while we drove down the roads and toward a few houses that Annabelle thought had potential.</p><p> </p><p>LATER THAT NIGHT~ BACK AT ANNABELLE’S</p><p>“Well?”  Annabelle asked, pouring me a cup of tea as she and the boys partook in some fine Irish whiskey.  “Which did ya like?”</p><p>They’d shown me two houses, both over two hours from Annabelle’s home.  They were both in the country, and both were spacious and had more than enough room for our children to grow up in.  They also had land.  One over an acre, with outbuildings and with a very little effort could become a small farm.  The other had access to a small brook down a flight of moss covered steps.  Both were beautiful.  The first, the farmhouse, was very Irish in the whitewashed walls and red doors.  The other more modern, but covered in decorative rocks and landscaped well enough to make it fit in with the rolling green surrounding it.  </p><p>I sighed.  They were beautiful and out of the way.  They were also so very far from the few people I’d gotten to know.  “They were both gorgeous.  I just worry-”</p><p>“Dat dere too far away?”  Connor asked, from his place at my left on the sofa, had seen my glance at Annabelle.  </p><p>Murphy, sitting on my right, took my hand in his.  “We ‘ave da car, Tess.”  He assured me, but knew there was more to my argument.</p><p>“Yes, and I know that.  It’s just,”  I stopped, would it really matter that much?  I’d moved from West Virginia to Boston without a glance back.  Annabelle would find a way to come to me should I need her, and the phone calls would work both ways.  “Which one did you two like best?”  </p><p>Of course each one had a different favorite.  I rolled my eyes.  Murphy liked the more modern of the two, but Connor loved the older farmhouse with the greater parcel of land.  They argued while both drank with their mother.  I smiled as they actually debated, rather than tussled.  My hand fell to my bump and I lay my head back.  Before I knew it, I’d fallen asleep.  </p><p>I didn’t feel them lift me, or carry me upstairs.  I only woke up when I felt the dress being tugged over my head as someone held me against them so I was vertical.  Groggy, I blinked open my eyes, and saw Connor in front of me, asking Murphy to unhook my bra.  </p><p>“I can do it,” I groaned, and tried to reach behind me, but a yawn overtook me.  “Give me a second to get my bearings.”  </p><p>I felt Murphy’s chuckle as his rough fingers unsnapped my bra and freed me from the fabric.  I sighed, freedom from constraint was wonderful.  “Dere, dat’s better, isn’t it?”  His breath caressed my earlobe and I leaned back into his arms.  </p><p>“Tired ya out,” Connor said, giving me a gentle kiss.  “Gonna take some gettin’ used ta, yer bein’ pregnant.” </p><p>I smiled against his lips, happy that the taste of whiskey and Connor didn’t make their demons react poorly.  “Same for me.”  </p><p>“Ta bed.”  Murphy ordered, lifting me as easily as if I still weighed the same as when we’d met.  He kissed me as gently as his brother had and placed me in the center of our makeshift bed.  Covering me with the blankets so I wouldn’t be chilled while they got themselves ready for bed, I tried to watch, but then darkness enveloped me and I was asleep again.</p><p> </p><p>I woke in the familiar way, chest to chest with Murphy, back to chest with Connor.  They were both wearing their boxers and I still had my panties, so that was new.  I could feel our babies fluttering inside me, clearly they knew mommy was awake, but their daddies didn’t.  Not yet.  I took the time to study Murphy in the early morning sun.  Still so innocent in sleep, so pure and perfect.  I would roll over to check Connor, but he woke so easily that it would be a rare gift to see him in sleep.  </p><p>I was so happy to have them back.  To be able to share our children’s birth with them, but there was still that fear inside me.  The fear that they’d be called back.  That we’d pick one of the houses, and I’d be there, alone while they were off in danger.  And Annabelle would be two hours away, a short distance by phone, but too far if I needed her.  After all, hadn’t I been taken minutes away from home in Boston?</p><p>Like they could hear my thoughts as easily as one another, I felt them shift and curl tighter against me.  Comforting me, even in their dreams.  Connor’s hand curved over my bump, while Murphy’s cradled the under-curve of it.  Perhaps that was why the babies were fluttering, they could feel the warmth of their daddies love.  </p><p>I had to trust in that love.  Their love for me, for our babies.  If I trusted nothing in this world, that would be the one thing I would hold on to.</p>
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<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Connor and Murphy woke up while I was watching Murphy sleeping and feeling the fluttering of our little ones at the warmth they were cradled between.  Murphy’s blue eyes, soft from sleep met mine as I felt Connor’s lips touch my shoulder.  And then his lips met mine, while his brother continued to feast on my skin.  Both of their mouths were soft, sweet, and slow.  Just needing the connection, the feeling of being able to touch me again, to taste me.  </p><p>For the first time, since our first time, I was torn.  I wanted both of them, not at the same time, but I NEEDED both of them.  I needed Murphy, with his quiet, slow pace, urging me to move with him, to beg for more.  I needed Connor, who loved my begging, but couldn’t hold back, not willing to make either of us wait.  I needed the MacManus brothers like I needed air, and I hadn’t had them back long enough for it to abate.  </p><p>My mouth grew hungry against Murphy’s, my hand reaching to behind me to hold Connor’s mouth to my skin.  I missed them, this, and I felt like I hadn’t been fully awake for our first night together in Ireland.  I’d squandered our second with sleep.  But this?  This was a new day and I fully intended to have my fill.  </p><p>I could feel their moans being swallowed by my mouth and vibrating on my skin.  As my free hand clutched Murphy’s face to mine, my other digging into Connor’s scalp, I felt hands whose I have no idea tugging down my panties.  I kicked them from my ankles wanting one of them, either of them at this point, but knowing, regardless of who I had first, I would demand the other after.  And then I felt Connor, lifting my leg to lay over his spreading me open as he slid into me from behind.  This was so very different from anytime before.  Murphy’s mouth never left mine as his brother took me, his hands in my hair, his tongue doing its damnedest to divert even part of my attention from Connor.  </p><p>I fed Murphy every noise that Connor was coaxing out of me.  Until even his mouth couldn’t contain it all.  Breaking free of his lips, I found myself calling out, trying to keep my voice down mindful of their mother’s presence in the house.  </p><p>“Dat’s right, Tess,” Murphy urged, his hand cradling my breast while his forehead was pressed against mine, eyes staring straight into mine.  “Let go, darlin’.”  </p><p>And I did, I nearly screamed, but Murphy helped me with my noise situation, swallowing it down as his mouth captured mine again.  Connor’s lips were kissing my shoulder, biting gently as he tried to control his own vocal pleasure as he came deep inside of me.  </p><p>They held me, much like when we slept, between their bodies as I came down from the high I’d shaken over.  I was breathing like I’d ran miles, and I felt Connor’s echoing heartbeat against my back.  His lips pressed against my shoulder, his breath as hot as his body had made mine.  </p><p>“Dat was defferent.”  Connor breathed, and I felt him slip out of me.  “Naht dat we’re cahmplainin’.”  <br/>My breathing evened out and I chuckled.  I could feel his hands running down my side, curving under my bump.  “I know.”  My eyes flutter shut, feeling the urge to go again, with Murphy this time nearly drown me.  “I just-” I pulled Murphy’s face to me again, kissing him as though I couldn’t get enough of the taste of him, and I couldn’t.  “I NEED you.”  My eyes locked on Murphy’s and he smiled.  </p><p>“Tink yer need a shower, Tessa.”  He was standing up from the bed, and tugging on my hands to help me up.  “Dahn’t she brudder?”  </p><p>I bit my lip and followed Murphy to the bathroom, Connor coming behind us.  The bathroom wasn’t very big, not nearly what I’d had in my apartment in Boston, but we made the best of what we were given.  Murphy started the shower stream, adjusting the temperature, as Connor turned me to face him and took the kiss that he hadn’t gotten to experience this morning.  Cupping my face carefully in his hands, he surprised me with the gentle and almost worship-like way he was kissing me.  Reminding me that he loved me, that he and his brother loved me.  </p><p>They helped me into the shower, Murphy in front, and Connor behind, and then they took care to wash every single inch of me.  My hair, lathered and massaging my scalp.  Carefully washing the suds free, keeping my eyes from burning from any errant bubbles.  They took particular care of my bump, and the soft skin that they loved so much that covered me head to toe was given attention that even I may have denied myself.  And when I was clean, clear of not just any sweat and soreness from either pregnancy or yesterday, I looked up to see that Murphy was ready to take care of my real need.  My need for him.  </p><p>I felt Connor’s mouth find my neck, lapping at my newly washed and still wet skin as Murphy cupped my ass in his hands and raised me into his arms so he could finally slide into me.  My arms wrapped around his shoulders as he gave me everything I never could have thought to ask for.  While Connor reminded me he was there, nipping at my skin, fingers sliding down my back.  And as I came undone again, wrapped around Murphy, as he surged into me with the same passion as I’d felt on the bed, I knew that it was different.  But it was what we all needed, this, our new intimacy.  </p><p> </p><p>We dressed and went downstairs, hair wet, smiles blinding.  Annabelle was in the kitchen and I felt a blush burn my face as she turned and I saw the earplugs she’d threatened me with only yesterday peeking out of her ears.  She pulled them out dramatically and rolled her eyes.  </p><p>“Took yer long enough.”  She grabbed four plates and set them on the table.  “Taut I’d starve befer yer’d be finished.”  </p><p> </p><p>We talked about the houses we’d looked at the day before.  Weighing the pros and cons of each.  I could see that it would come down to my vote, since the two of them wouldn’t get there through debate, and I didn’t want to see it come down to a physical match of wills.  I thought that both houses were amazing, but which one did I want to spend my life with these two dynamic men?  With their twins growing up with us?</p><p>“Tess, which one ded ya like?”  I smiled, of course they’d ask.</p><p>I glanced at Connor and his grin grew.  “I liked the farmhouse.”  I took Murphy’s hand in mine.  “The stream, it scares me because if our little ones are like the two of you?  It means we’d have to blockade it and then, still watch them like hawks.”  I didn’t mention that there was a fear that I would be doing that watching more on my own than with their backing me, since I knew that they’d be called back to work sooner or later.  He nodded, his thumb brushing my hand to let me know he wasn’t too upset.</p><p>And that’s how we finally figured out where we’d live.  Now if only every decision was that simple.</p>
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<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Buying the farmhouse wasn’t difficult.  I’d expected some roadblocks since I wasn’t a citizen, and my men weren’t exactly on the right side of American authorities, but the powers behind them, gave us a bit of help.  I had to believe that, and I had to worry about it.  Favors would have to be repaid eventually.  </p><p>Annabelle helped us move, not that there was much to move.  Mostly she helped me stay sane as her sons argued about everything from where the sofa we bought would sit, to how to hang the pictures on the walls.  And don’t get me started on their arguments over what type of livestock they wanted to add to our ‘farm’.  </p><p>It took far less time, once their mother reigned them in, to get our house in order.  My books were on the shelves, their guns were locked in a gun safe I insisted on, and we could sit down to a dinner that I cooked in my kitchen for my family.  Annabelle was looking at the dishes with a critical eye.  </p><p>“Surely you’ve had Italian food before, Annabelle.”  I offered, sitting between Connor and Murphy at our table.  </p><p>She sniffed and I nearly laughed.  “‘Ow is dis any less pungent dan what I cook?”  </p><p>I shrugged, “it just is.”  And I dished out a serving for myself and waited for my three dining companions to follow suit.  </p><p>Connor and Murphy shared a look and I raised an eyebrow.  “Sorry, Tess,” Murphy offered, taking my hand.  </p><p>“Was jus tinkin’ bout the firs time ya made dis.”  Connor answered, taking my other hand.  </p><p>Ah, our first night.  “Checkin’ for ticks.”  I answered, blushing and looking down at my plate.  </p><p>“Ticks?”  Annabelle asked, curiosity burning in one word.  “Wha the?”  </p><p>The twins chuckled and released my hands.  “Tess jus helped us remember where all our scars were.”  Connor offered, dishing out his own serving. I shook my head and tried to focus on my food.  </p><p>“Yer scars?”  Annabelle answered, I knew she was shooting looks at the three of us and I wanted the floor to swallow my chair.  “Made yer a meal and da two of ye,” she started laughing and I looked up and her literally shaking with laughter.  </p><p>“Mudder,” Murphy admonished, unable to hold his own smile at bay.  “Yer embarrassin’ da mudder of our babies.”  </p><p>“Aye, and as I tol’ her before, ‘ow did she get dat way?”  Annabelle was grinning at me.  </p><p>We ate, Annabelle conceding eventually that my dinner wasn’t completely horrible.  The boys loved it, but they’d loved it when I made it the first time.  And at the end of dinner, they cleaned up, and pushed me toward our bathroom for a shower.  Annabelle was enjoying an after dinner drink with them, supervising the cleaning of our kitchen, so smiling I went to get a shower.  </p><p>I let the warm water soothe the aches and pains of the move, and our tiny ones battling for room.  I took the time to wash my hair.  I shaved all the pertinent areas I could still reach.  I took my time and when I finished I realized the house was quiet.  Almost too quiet.</p><p>Stepping into our bedroom, now furnished with a king size bed, I saw that it was quiet because my men were getting ready for bed.  They were no doubt tired, they’d done the majority of the heavy lifting after all.  I leaned against the bathroom door frame and watched.  Connor hip checking Murphy at the dresser, pulling out fresh boxers.  Murphy slapping the back of Connor’s head because those were HIS boxers, ya arse.  I fought my laughter.  They were beautiful and amazing, and I was going to be raising four children.  </p><p>“Like wha’ ya see?”  Murphy asked, eyes meeting mine in the bureau mirror.  </p><p>Connor lifted his head and my eyes drifted to his.  “Tink she does.”  </p><p>I  curved my hand over my growing bump, wearing only panties, I was sure I looked like a barge.  “I think I’ve always liked what I see when I look at you two.”  I stared down at our children’s currently living space to emphasize it.  </p><p>Their chuckles rolled over me and I looked up with a smile.  “Ready for bed, Tess?”  Murphy would forever ask me that.  And it would never fail to make my nipples taunt.  </p><p>“Let me just lock up,” Connor offered, and turned the lock on our bedroom door.  </p><p>Dear Lord.  The two of them would be the death of me.  But I’d love them both until my final breath.</p>
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<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I woke up sandwiched between the two of them.  How I prayed I’d be waking up for the rest of our lives.  Connor tight against my back, Murphy pressed against my front, wrapped  around my enormous bump, and just as I was about to stretch it happened.  And it woke both of them up.  </p><p>Duel kicks to Murphy’s abdomen and Connor’s hand, both pressed against my bump and I looked up to see Murphy’s wide eyes and Connor’s voice broke through.  </p><p>“Was dat-”  His hand was still tight against the lower curve of my bump when they kicked again.  </p><p>“Our babes,” Murphy breathed, and then I was on my back, while they two of them cooed to our children inside of me.  </p><p>“Dat’s right wee ones,” Connor’s voice praised as I held back my giggles.  </p><p>“Das’ here,” and I hoped that the babies understood the plurality of the word from Murphy.  </p><p>It felt like they were fighting inside me to show just how much they loved their daddies.  More kicks and more exclamations.  </p><p>“Did ya see dat?”  Murphy asked, glancing up at me propped up against the pillows. </p><p>Connor’s finger was tracing the outline.  “It’s a wee foot.”  </p><p>I smiled down at the two of them, in awe of their children and me.  It was broken by a sharp smack to our bedroom door.  “Enough o’ dat!”  Annabelle demanded, clearly not understanding the source of our noises this morning.  “Tis barely dawn.”</p><p>Murphy rushed over to the door, giving Connor a chance to cover my nakedness and pull on his boxers.  Unlocking and opening it to their mother, she looked shocked when he took her hand and pulled her inside.  </p><p>“Da babes,” Connor was saying, my huge bump still uncovered for inspection.</p><p>“Wha?”  Annabelle looked worried and hastened to the bedside.  “Is somethin’ wrong?”</p><p>“Naw,” Murphy offered, climbing back beside me.  “We felt dem.”  </p><p>“Dat all?”  Her tone was going for nonchalant, but her eyes gave her away as they twinkled with her own eagerness.  </p><p>“Get on the bed, Annabelle,” I rolled my eyes.  “Let the twins say hello to their Nanna.”  </p><p> </p><p>We took Annabelle to the bus later that day.  She insisted, even though we offered to drive her home.  She shook her head and told us that she could take care of herself, the bus was fine, and she needed a break from the three of us.</p><p>“Five.” I corrected her and she gave me a look. “There are two more,” I pointed to my bump.  </p><p>A bark of laughter, and I was enveloped in her arms and she was reminding me she was just a call away.  “Take care o’ yerself.” she ordered, and I nodded as she reminded her sons to look after me and our sweet babies.  </p><p> </p><p>Our first night alone in our new house, and the following few days were spent like any newlyweds would have spent the same time.  Locked in a never ending grip of passion, Christening each room with our love and lust.  Finally, though, the real world calls.  In this case, a visit to my new doctor.</p><p>It would be a first visit with the boys, and I was nervous.  How normal would going into the obstetrician with TWO fathers be in Ireland of all places?  Connor and Murphy tried to settle my fears, saying that one would pretend to be an uncle, or that we could wing it when we got there.  Nothing helped.  I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that my bump and their presence would scream that I should be wearing a scarlet letter.  “W” for whore.  </p><p>“Hardly, Tess.”  Connor soothed, helping me to the car, rubbing calming circles on my aching lower back.  “Not de first ter av more than wan da fer yisser babies.”</p><p>“At the same time?”  I nearly growled, but didn’t, because his heart was in the right place.</p><p>“They won't dare insult yer wi' us beside yer.” Murphy promised, and I realized the argument didn’t matter, I had to have a doctor, judgement be damned.</p><p> </p><p>“Everythin' looks gran'. they're active. they're on schedule as far as growth. an' they're movin' steadily into birthin' posishun.” My new doctor was saying with a twinkle in her eye.  “Nigh are both av yisser gentlemen gonna be in de delivery room witcha?”</p><p>I felt myself go pale.  “Both av us,” the MacManus boys answered for me, since I seemed incapable of speech in my shame.  </p><p>“Gran'. She'll nade de both av yer. tessa, yer 'av two gran' tren 'ere, thar's naw shame in dat. aside from selfishness.”  She winked at me and left us so I could redress.</p><p>“See, Tessa.”  Connor said, helping me to my feet and handing my dress to Murphy.  <br/>“Naw shame.  Naw judgement.”  Murphy practically cooed as he tugged my dress over my head and dressed me.  </p><p>“I see,” I smiled at the two of them, Connor had my purse, Murphy was kneeling to help me with my shoes, and I did see.  Where’s the shame in having TWO men who adored me?</p>
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<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The rest of my doctor’s visits weren’t as nerve wracking, but they were more often.  Twins, as the doctor reminded me for the millionth time it seemed, came early far more often than not.  On the upside, she also reminded me that this meant they’d be smaller, but I countered that there would also be TWO of them exiting me.  She chuckled and I realized the boys didn’t look nearly as tickled by the reality.</p><p>“Are you alright?”  I asked them, once I was dressed and we were back in the car heading home.  They’d been silent since the appointment, and it wasn’t something I was used to.  </p><p>They shared a look that I could witness since I’d taken the backseat, and I swore they both looked a tad green around the gills.  </p><p>Murphy glanced at me in the rear view mirror, “'tis jist dat we-”</p><p>“'adn't realized that ye'd be-”  It dawned on me and I finished for them.</p><p>“Pooping out two melon-sized people?”  I held back my snort, but it was a close call.  “How did you think this would end?”  </p><p>They both looked at one another and I chuckled.  “Surgery.” They both admitted and I would have doubled over laughing if I didn’t have a huge balloon in the way.  </p><p>“Oh, you poor sweet, innocents.”  Murphy’s glare in the rearview matched Connor’s when he turned to face me.  “Sorry to disappoint, but the surgery option only comes into play if your little ones refuse to come out without harming me or themselves.”  I shrugged.  If they thought it was weird from their end, imagine how I felt from mine.  </p><p> </p><p>Our remaining wait time seemed to be unable to decide if it was just ticking by slowly  or moving so rapidly that we couldn’t keep up.  </p><p>The nursery was painted and I nearly peed myself when I saw that so were my two MacManus men.  Head to toe, I was fairly certain they had more coats on them of the light colors we’d chosen than the walls did.  </p><p>“An' jist waaat ye splitting' yer sides at, Tessa?”  Connor asked, a gleam of mischief in his eyes.  </p><p>My eyes widened and I held up one hand.  “You wouldn’t dare.”  </p><p>Murphy’s arms wrapping around me from behind, covering my entire back with paint caught me by surprise.  I yelped and his lips touched my ear, “Ah we chucker dare.”  And then I squealed as Connor made a Tessa sandwich and I was as coated as they were.  </p><p> </p><p>Lucky for me, assembling the baby furniture wasn’t as messy.  The room was ready, and I felt ready to pop.  Even if my libido was out of control.  I mean, I felt like they were looking for chores outside so I couldn’t jump them.  Lord help them when they came back inside, no matter what make-work they’d chosen to do.</p><p>“Tessa, me ud flower,” Murphy was panting, laying under me after I’d practically attacked him when he had the nerve to step in the house after taming the lawn.  </p><p>Connor, still recovering in a chair he’d somehow managed to collapse on, since he’d gave in to the temptation of our home first, finished the sentence for his twin, “we nade a break.”  </p><p>“We'd loike ter live ter clap our laddies, sweetheart.”  Murphy soothed when my face showed how crestfallen I felt.  </p><p> </p><p>Lucky for them, and me it seems, that once we were tucked into bed later that night.  As I tried to find a comfortable position, and their hands were trying to help, my water broke.  </p><p>I lay forgotten on the bed as I watched the two of them bumble around our bedroom shouting orders to one another.  Connor telling Murphy to grab my bag.  Murphy reminding Connor to line the car seat with plastic (as our bed had been for weeks, just in case).  I watched as they dressed, grabbed my bag, and rushed from the room-- without me. </p><p>Rolling carefully over, feeling a slice of harsh pain that I didn’t prepare to feel, I groaned and managed to get out of the bed.  I was pulling a dress over my head when they returned.  </p><p>“Realized what you forgot finally?”  I asked, as I slid my feet into my shoes.  And then, as Connor rubbed my lower back and Murphy held my hand, they got me to the car and rushed to the hospital.</p><p> </p><p>Hours, maybe it was days, it felt like months later, we heard the first lusty scream from the first twin.  I was covered in sweat, and I felt like my entire body was on fire from the pain, but I felt triumphant that at least one was out.  And then, because there’s no rest for the wicked, I had to keep going.</p><p>I lay on the hospital bed, smiling at the fathers of my children as they held our daughters and cooed to them.  One, our little dark haired beauty, cradled in Connor’s arms would be named Aisling because she was born first and she truly was a vision.  And the light haired pixie that Murphy was cooing to, she was clearly Caitlyn, her purity proved that our love was as innocent and wonderful.</p>
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<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Anyone who ever said having TWO babies at once is somehow easier than one, or having TWO men in your life to help with those TWO babies would make it easier was a damn liar. You would think, seeing as both fathers are Irish and could drink most normal beings under the table a little spit up or baby poop wouldn’t render them insensible. You’d be wrong. Terribly, horribly WRONG.</p><p>Thank God for Annabelle.  They’d had the presence of mind to call their blessed mother on the births of their daughters, and for that I couldn’t curse their entire existences, but I swore as the two of them struggled against gagging at the scent of a little baby shit that it was a close call.  She and I shared a look as we changed yet another set of diapers, listening as the fathers coughed and bitched about how two angels could smell like demons and spew forth spit up like they needed exorcisms.  </p><p>“You can set them loose on all the evil men of the world,” I muttered, making silly faces at Cait while her Nana was doing a similar version with Aisling, “but peace be with you if you try to get them to change a diaper full of shit.”  </p><p>Annabelle snorted, making our dark haired little one coo and getting the attention of the elder twins.  “Aye, dey disappoint me.”  She shook her head as she put the baby back to rights and we cradled them back into our arms.  </p><p>“Disappoint ya?”  Connor asked, coming up behind his mother and looking at the little one in her arms.  “‘Ow’s dat?”  </p><p>Murphy was wrapping his arms around me and Caitlyn, his chin on my shoulder as he smiled at the little face with her lips puckered and making suckling motions that came as natural as anything.  “We’re naturals.” He offered, and I had to bite my tongue.   </p><p>“Naturals at ‘ow ter get out of da job.” Annabelle hit low and hard.  “Been ‘ere all av a week nd seen ye change a diaper each, bitchin’ da whole time.”  She shook her head.  “Tessa didn’t make em alone, but she’s gonna be doin’ dis alone.”  </p><p>It got quiet, very quiet since the girls had eaten and been changed for the night.  They were ready for bed, and I was planning on putting them down in their bassinet by our bed, but Annabelle shook her head at me.  She told the boys to move the bassinet into her room, since it appeared they had some talking it over to do, and I had some sleeping to do.  She sent me off to bed, and as I went, I heard her telling her sons to remember their promise, which meant little to me, since I felt like they were standing by most of the ones they made me.</p><p> </p><p>The next morning I woke up alone and I felt a sliver of fear crawl up my spine and then settle in my stomach so hard that I almost felt like I might be pregnant again the urge to vomit came on so strong.  But then I heard Connor’s voice and Murphy’s answer and I sat up straight and found them.  </p><p>“Didn’t mean ter wake ya,” Murphy sounded abashed, but also fucking happy I was awake.  He was holding Aisling and she was drinking from a bottle, but he looked like he was about as sure of what he was doing as Connor did -.</p><p>“Connor, are you -”  Connor had the baby bathtub set up on the dresser, and he was trying to juggle Caitlyn’s wiggling, damp body and figure out how to wash her while not making a mess.  Good luck, buddy.  </p><p>“Help?”  I’d never heard Connor ask for help, ever.  So I tossed off the blanket and rushed to him first, even as Murphy and Aisling came closer with the bottle angled a little too low.  I positioned his arm at a better angle for her to NOT end up with gas, and then offered Connor some help.  </p><p> </p><p>Annabelle had left on the first bus back home.  She had gone the route of tough love with the boys, and while I respected her experience, I wanted to throw something at her head.  Caitlyn was clean and no worse for the wear, but I had to advise Connor that the bathing should stay in the bathroom or kitchen, for the sake of messiness.  Murphy didn’t throw up when Aisling spit up, so I’d consider it progress.  And they both changed a poop filled diaper each within moments of one another, with minimal bitching and moaning.  </p><p>We were all exhausted the first full day on our own, but we all worked together, and when we fell into bed we earned the sleep that came.  Even if we were still clothed and wore spit up, and some of us might have forgotten to take off his shoes.</p>
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